Separation
by slimygrimy
Summary: In 1978 the Weasleys become top of Voldemort's to kill list and Dumbledore puts the children up for Muggle adoption for their safety. Fred and George start Hogwarts 11 years later, unaware of each other's existence. What happens when they meet?
1. Prologue

April 5th, 1978

It was a strangely cold that night in April, when a tall, thin man with long silver hair and a beard appeared out of nowhere in a busy street in Ottery St. Catchpole. The dim light from the moon, partly hidden behind clouds, sparkled in his half moon spectacles, which balanced on the end of his very crooked nose. He was clad in a scarlet robe with silver and gold stars, and he wore a tall pointed hat. Despite his strange appearance, no one in the bustling crowds walking home from work took a second glance at him.

The man headed down a small dark alley, coming out onto a large open field, which he crossed with surprising speed for his age. He reached a frankly ridiculous building, which looked so structurally unstable that it was hard to believe it was still standing; nevertheless, it was. The man swept down the drive, past a shed from which strange metallic sounds were escaping, past a lopsided sign which read 'The Burrow', and knocked on the door three times. A plump, red-headed woman who looked thoroughly stressed opened the door immediately.

"Good evening, Molly," said the almost weary voice of Albus Dumbledore. "I trust you are well?"

The woman in question beckoned Dumbledore inside, running her hand through her hair. "As well as I could be I suppose," she answered, forcing a smile. "I haven't been getting much sleep with two of them. It was bad enough with one baby crying, but _two..._" she laughed weakly. "When one goes to sleep, the other wakes up. Although I swear that's their plan, I'm almost positive I saw one of them winking at the other this morning, which definitely isn't normal for four day old babies... It's like they are purposely running me off my feet. Twins, I ask you..."

While she was saying all this, the two of them had walked through to the sitting room, where Dumbledore sat down in a squashy pink armchair and Molly took the sofa. The moment they sat down, they heard crying from upstairs.

"Oh, I'd better go get them," Molly said, looking flustered. "Sorry Albus, I won't be a moment..."

"No, no worries," he said, smiling. She dashed out of the room while he looked around the cosy sitting room. On a splintered wooden corner table was a wireless, playing some modern music that he didn't recognise. A large fireplace held dancing red flames; the scarlet glow added a certain homeliness to the room. On the wall above the fireplace a clock hung, but where the numbers should have been read various phrases such as 'home,' 'work,' 'travelling,' 'lost,' 'hospital,' 'prison,' and 'mortal peril'. There were four hands on the clock, one for each of the family members. All four hands were on 'home'; Mr and Mrs Weasley and two identical twin baby boys. Dumbledore felt a pang of sadness that the other three children had been removed from the clock. It was, however, for their own safety. He kept telling himself this, over and over again, trying to ignore any feeling of guilt that plagued him.

_No, _he told himself firmly. _There was no other option. They understand why you did it._

He sighed, hating what he had to do. What ever happened to make him take the children away from such people as the Weasleys? They never deserved it.

"Here we go, meet Fred and George!" said Molly, walking in with one on each arm. The twins had a tuft of red hair on the top of their head and large, sparkling blue eyes.

"Well, they're simply delightful Molly," said Dumbledore, taking one of them from her and supporting them on his knee. "Which one is which?"

Her face fell as she looked from one twin to the other. "Do you know, I'm not sure!" she cried with a note of panic in her voice. "Oh I'm a terrible mother, what kind of parent..."

"Molly," interrupted Dumbledore firmly. "The most intelligent of our kind cannot tell the difference between a duck and a chicken egg."

"Er... right," she said, looking confused. Dumbledore pretended not to notice this and continued.

"Anyway, as you know Molly, I'm not here for a social call." Her face fell, but she tried not to let the tears fall. "I'm sorry, I really am, but you can't keep them. In time, you will see all your children again, but right now, it's too dangerous. Voldemort is targeting you, and everyone knows it. Blood traitors, they call you, number one on their list of who to kill. We can't keep the children here, it's too risky."

"Yes, but... but... can't we just give them to another magical family until Voldemort is vanquished?" she said, the tears now falling freely.

"I'm afraid not," he replied, bouncing the child on his knee up and down with a grave look on his face. "The only place their safe is where no one knows they have magic. It's the best thing for them."

"Albus... please..." Her tone was desperate now. He avoided her eye and stood up, handing her the twin who had now started crying.

"I'm sorry, Molly. It pains me to do this. We'll be here to collect Fred tomorrow, then George the day after."

"W...what? They won't be together?"

He bowed his head, his eyes closed. "This was the best we could do at such short notice. There were only four families available to take them, and all of them were only willing to have one. It was, sadly, impossible."

Molly was sobbing now, rocking the twins on her knees.

"I'll see you tomorrow, Molly," Dumbledore said, not daring to look her in eye. "I'm really very sorry. I wish there was another way." She was still crying when he left, shutting the door softly behind him.

As he left, he saw Arthur Weasley leaving the shed outside, and he gave him a quick 'Hello' before Disapparating. Arthur would barely look him in the eye anymore, and who could blame him? Dumbledore could hardly look in the mirror these days.

He desperately hoped it would all work out in the end, but with all the Death Eaters in the country after the Mr and Mrs Weasley, he worried for their lives.

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><p><strong>AN: I hope you liked this! This is an idea I've had for a while, but I never got round to planning the story out. I've got about 9 or 10 chapters planned for the moment, but there is likely to more after that. However, I'm not sure if I'll finish or not, because I'm not sure if the idea works, or if anyone likes it or not! I hope this prologue made the main idea clear though, please review and ask any questions if it's confused you! I tried my best :P Please review and tell me your opinions, reviews are gold. Thanks for reading!**

_Next chapter: Fred's childhood background is revealed. _


	2. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

Fred Weasley flopped himself down on his usual seat around the dining-room table. Today's meal was his least favourite- liver and onions- but the Johnson's loved it. He supposed it was in their genes to eat strange food. Despite growing up with the disgusting stuff at least once a fortnight, he still hated it.

Unfolding his napkin and placing it on his lap, he glanced up at Mr Johnson. The tall, stern looking man with the thick black eyebrows met his eye and grinned. Sam was on his left, impatiently tapping his foot. Mrs Johnson was still in the kitchen preparing to bring out the food with their daughter Helena, so it was in these five minutes that Fred truly appreciated his foster father without Mrs Johnson nagging and fussing about _everything_.

Mr Philip Johnson worked as a banking consultant. He was an intimidating looking person, towering over most people at 6'7'', but once you got to know him, you saw his kind heart shining through. He had thick, curly black hair, and intense dark eyes that twinkled if he liked you, and burned if he didn't. He always dressed in his favourite Armani suit, except in the house, when he liked to kick off his shoes and walk around in his striped pyjamas. Fred had seen him sneaking around the house early in the morning, checking on his son, then his daughter, then on him. He also liked to have a packet of biscuits (custard creams, to be exact) on his bedside table so he could eat one in the middle of the night if he got peckish.

Sam Johnson was the youngest child of Fred's foster family. Sam was a quiet, weedy looking boy of 8, and Fred had always felt sorry for him during the long terms at their boarding school. Sam wasn't stupid, or ugly, but he had somehow never fit in, and Fred had had many disagreements with Mrs Johnson that boarding school wasn't the place for him, but she had never given in, insisting that it was the best place for him. Fred was 11, 3 years older than his 'brother'; when they were away at school, he tried to look after him, but Sam was one of those people that just attracted the bullies.

When they were at home, however, Sam was a completely different person. He was a laugh, with a surprisingly smart humour that Fred liked. He enjoyed creeping out of the house on Halloween and hiding behind trees with Fred, terrifying any trick-or-treaters that walked by. Although they didn't share a room, Sam had often joined him in a 'midnight feast' in his room, talking late into the night about their plans for the summer and who they would trick next.

Mrs Johnson then entered the room carrying a large steaming dish of the liver, followed by Helena and two platters of potatoes and greens. There was a sudden silence as there always was when she entered the room. After a couple of trips back to the kitchen to fetch drinks etc. the two women finally sat down, and Fred picked up his knife and fork and lent over to get some vegetables.

"No no, Fred!" warned Mrs Johnson darkly. "We must say grace first."

"You'd think you'd have learnt that by now," said Helena, rolling her eyes. Fred scowled and dropped his knife and fork, putting his hands stubbornly under the table, refusing to pray. Mrs Johnson gave him a scathing look and then nodded at her husband.

"For what we are about to receive," he said, sounding bored, "may the Lord make us truly thankful. Amen."

"Amen," chorused Mrs Johnson, Helena and Sam. Fred kept his lips firmly shut.

"Well, tuck in!" The three of them launched themselves on the liver and Fred gave Mrs Johnson a stony look which she ignored.

Mrs Janet Johnson was one of these women who refused to change her ways for anything. She was the typical old-fashioned house wife, who did anything her husband told her to, but had such a dangerous look on her face that most of the time he avoided anything that would provoke her. She had cropped, mousy-brown hair and watery blue eyes. She was fairly short and plump. She was a devout Christian, determinedly going to church every Sunday morning at 9 o'clock. She was also desperate that her children (including Fred) would become MPs in the future.

Her daughter Helena looked very much like her, but had a much kinder spirit. She had the same mousy-brown hair and blue eyes, but she grew her hair long and it curled just like her Father's. She was short and slight, but the thing Fred loved most about her was her smile- it was the most infectious smile he had ever come across, and was partly the reason he always loved to make people laugh, just to see that smile of hers. (Of course, Fred also liked to make people laugh because he loved the trouble.)

Half an hour later, after Fred had watched the Johnson's eat through their third helpings of liver, Helena and Mrs Johnson cleared the table and Mr Johnson retired to the lounge to have a cigar and a glass of port. Sam and Fred went out into the garden to sit on the swings.

"You alright Fred?" Sam asked, as they swung lazily under the setting sun.

Fred looked across at his younger brother and gave him a wide smile and a wink. "Yeah, 'course I am. When am I not?" Sam laughed and punched him on the arm.

"Not often, I admit." There was a short silence as they watched the sun finally disappear behind the hills, before Sam spoke up again, softly his time. "I'm gonna miss you next year, Fred. I can't imagine that place without you."

"I know, mate. I'm not exactly thrilled about leaving either." He sighed. "Just... promise me you won't let them walk all over you. You're so much better than them; simply... _stand up _to them!"

"It's not as easy as you make out!" he replied, his voice rising. "When have you ever had to hide all your stuff _every night _for fear that your room mates will steal it all? When have you ever starved for a whole day because they took your breakfast? You haven't, Fred! So don't come all that with me!"

He stopped, breathing hard and staring forwards, a blazing look in his eyes. Fred was shocked; Sam had never blown up like that at him before.

"Sam I... I'm sorry, man. I didn't know they were that bad."

"But you haven't though, have you Fred? They didn't hate you, even though-"

"-even though I never fit in, yeah, I know." Fred sighed deeply, shivering at the sudden cold the evening had brought about them.

"Why didn't you fit in Fred? It's not like you didn't make them laugh, or they didn't like you?"

"I'm just different, that's all," he said, twiddling his thumbs. "It's like... there's something missing. I dunno what it is, I can't work it out."

"Maybe you just aren't destined to be an MP," Sam said quietly.

"No, maybe I'm not. I'm hoping things will be different at my next school."

But Fred had no idea how different things would truly be.

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><p><strong>AN: Hope you liked this chapter! It's hard writing stuff like this, because there are no facts- this is an entirely alternate universe, which I've never tried before! I hope I pulled it off though, sorry that it took so long to update, been so busy with school and work, I don't have one day off at all any more. I hope you didn't hate the way I've put Fred in a privilaged childhood, going to a posh school, but I do have a reasoning for it, which will become clear later! :D Please please please review, thanks so much for everyone who alerted and favourited, and thank you to SolelyReader, Ridwa, chocolateMnMs, Laura T, LadyLLib, and Katherine! You guys are awesome!**


	3. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

"George Weasley! What the _hell _were you thinking?" Mrs April Croft was glaring angrily at her foster child, who had his arms crossed and was glaring just as angrily back at her. "Look at him! Look what you've done!"

She gestured towards the other boy standing next to them, who certainly was an alarming sight. He had his hands clamped over his face, but failing to conceal how his skin had turned a worrying shade of orange.

"So go on!" Mrs Croft continued, now stroking her son's short brown hair, "What happened?"

George shrugged. "Dunno."

"What do you mean, 'dunno?'" she shrieked. "Of course you know! When anything odd happens like this, who else could it possibly be?"

"Who even cares how it happened?" shouted George, his temper rising and his ears turning red. "He deserves everything he gets."

"But he's _orange!_ How is that even possible?" she thundered.

"I can't imagine," he said sardonically.

"I've had it up to _here-"_ she held her hand high above her head, "-with you, and...and... you know what, just go to your room! Get out of my sight!"

George obeyed. His favourite place was his room. No, actually his favourite place was anywhere that was away from the Crofts.

George had always hated his foster family. They were so completely different to him, and they never understood him either. Mrs April Croft, with her jet black hair that fell to her waist and her cold grey eyes, was insufferable in every way. She blamed him for everything, (even though most of what he got blamed for was his fault), and she was determined that her son, Ben, was perfect.

This was not the case. Mrs Croft was utterly blind to Ben's faults, but George got the brunt of them every day. Ben was thirteen, two years older than George, and he was hugely popular at their school. Unfortunately, it was a well known fact around the school that Ben hated his foster brother, so everyone else ignored George to avoid Ben's displeasure.

In some ways, George didn't really mind. He often preferred being alone to having to talk to some of the morons at his school. Then again, he longed for someone who was like him, who he had at least _one_ thing in common with. He was simply lonely.

Still, things had greatly improved since the death of Mr Croft, who had gone out drinking one night and never returned. Just the thought of the thuggish man sent a shiver down George's spine, and he instinctively touched the scars on his chest- long, white scars that never faded, spreading from his shoulder to his hips.

Naturally, George was the one who received the worst of Mr Neil Croft's anger; George had been, to him, a waste of space and a waste of money. In fact, George never understood why they'd ever taken him in in the first place, it wasn't like any of them wanted him.

That was what it seemed like, anyway. He'd considered running away from home so many times that he'd lost count, and yet for some reason, he never did. Not because he was scared, or because maybe some small part of him had become attached to the only place that he had ever stayed, but because he had nowhere to go and no one else to run to.

George pushed open the door to his room and launched onto the bed. His room, bright green and covered in pictures he had cut from magazines, was small but exactly how he liked it. It was his personal hideout, and somehow, the Crofts, no matter how hard they tried, could never open the door, while he opened it as easily as if it had been recently oiled. His desk was covered in pieces of paper with drawings all over them; drawings of people he had seen in the street that day, drawings of imaginary places he wished he could escape to. He had a small, stout bookcase that he'd made himself one summer out of pieces of wood he'd found in the wood nearby; it was full to bursting of books and magazines he'd stolen from school- he'd never been caught to this day. His clothes lay strewn all over the floor, most of them second hand but nevertheless good enough.

Hours passed, and George did not move from his position on the bed. He stared at the cracks in the ceiling, counting them over and over until he was well into the thousands. Finally, he heard Ben go to bed and then April- he waited another half an hour to ensure they had fallen asleep, before creeping out of his room, down the stairs and out of the front door.

It was around midnight; the moon was hidden behind clouds and it was almost completely pitch black, yet George found his way to his destination. The walk to the woods was a short one, and once he arrived there, he followed the path towards a small clearing. Here, George spent his summers lying under the trees and drawings the animals and plants he so loved to watch. No one ever disturbed him, and that was the way he liked it.

Tonight, George sat on the familiar log and simply listened. The hooting of owls and the rustling of small creatures emanated from the trees. The moon emerged from behind the clouds, perfectly illuminating the clearing in which George sat.

He closed his eyes, revelling in the peace and beauty of the place. Opening them, he then looked down at a pile of leaves beneath his feet . He watched in wonder as they floated into the air, flying around in a small cloud of many shades of green and brown.

It was these wonders of nature that he loved to escape to, and it was this place that he didn't want to run away from. Sometimes, he even wondered if there was something magical about this place, but then he pushed it out of his mind. It was just the wind- there was no such thing as magic.

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><p><strong>AN: And there we have it! I'm so sorry it's taken so long to update, this chapter has been difficult to write and I had a long time of terrible writer's block! Anyway, I hope you liked it, please please review and tell me what you think! Thank you millions to everyone who has story alerted and favourited, and special thanks to my fantastic reviewers, ctc, chocolateMnMs, Sunset On Heartache, thecompletebookworm, ak, Moonlight900, Katherine, toxicwings333, and alfiesurprise101. You guys are what makes writing so enjoyable! :D**

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><p><em>Next chapter: Fred and the Johnson's receive a mysterious visitor and learn something shocking...<em>


	4. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Fred was lying flat out in the back garden, absorbing the hot sun and humming quietly to himself. It was the perfect place to live, he knew that. He could hear the quiet splashing of the stream and the singing of the birds, and the smell of freshly mown grass was in the air. There was a light breeze that ruffled his hair, and he was just brushing a stray hair out of his eyes, when he heard the voice of Mrs Johnson.

"Fred, come in a moment! We need to talk to you."

He sat up, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. This was unusual- the normal course of conversations in the Johnson household was a short one- 'do the washing up', or 'stop eating the biscuits Fred, its liver and onion time in ten minutes', so the promise of a 'talk' was either exciting or terrifying.

He stood up lazily, shaking his head in contempt at the thought of the bane of his life (liver and onions) and followed the long, curving path through the trees towards the house. He entered the kitchen, where there was a delicious smell of baking. Mrs Johnson was standing there waiting for him, and she beckoned him through to the lounge, where Mr Johnson was sat with a glass of cider next to the open window, reading The Daily Telegraph.

"Sit down, Fred," Mrs Johnson said, and Mr Johnson put down his newspaper and gazed intently at Fred. His expression was unreadable.

"We got a letter today," she continued, " Off a one 'Professor McGonagall'. She is from a school and she is coming to meet you this afternoon to discuss where you're going in September."

Fred groaned. "Special law school or something, is it?" he said.

"I'm not absolutely sure, but she's having a meeting with all of us to discuss it with us. Maybe you've been scouted by your old school for good grades!"

He rolled his eyes. These 'good grades' were a figment of her imagination, a result of her ignoring the fact that he never concentrated at school so his grades were actually very average.

"Well, anyway we'll find out soon enough. She'll be here in an hour or thereabouts, so I want you to go and smarten yourself up, at least put another pair of trousers instead of those _horrendous _jeans with holes in the front. That really won't make a good impression."

He stood up and left the room, glancing over briefly at the silently brooding man by the window. He gave Fred another unreadable glance before turning back to his paper.

Half an hour later, Fred was sat in his room with another pair of jeans on and a new shirt (unbuttoned at the top). He was staring at the wall, a million thoughts flying through his head. Where was this school? What type of people would there be there? He wrinkled his nose when he thought about the type of people Mrs Johnson would have him be with, and the way she would have him act, all prim and proper and saying 'grass' with a long 'ah' instead of a short one. It simply wasn't him.

That was it. He had made up his mind- he wasn't going. Whatever this Professor McGonagall had to say, he wouldn't listen- nothing would change his mind.

At half past one, Fred was sitting on the sofa in the living room, waiting. Mrs Johnson was pacing the room nervously, occasionally giving Fred a warning glance that said 'You'd better not screw this up'. He looked away, avoiding her eye. Mr Johnson had abandoned the paper and was sat in his chair, staring silently at the wall.

Suddenly, the doorbell rang. Mr Johnson jumped out of his skin and Mrs Johnson flew out of the room to answer it. Fred heard muffled voices and sat up, taking a deep breath.

Professor McGonagall was a tall, black haired woman with a stern looking expression. She looked about 60, and she wore a long black robe, which Fred thought was incredibly odd, especially in this weather. Maybe it was the school uniform at this school she had come about. Well, that definitely didn't help her case- if he had to wear things like that, he _certainly_ wasn't going.

She walked over to Mr Johnson and shook his hand. "Hello Mr Johnson," she said. "I'm Professor McGonagall, pleased to meet you." She had a Scottish accent. Again, Fred groaned inwardly. Maybe it was in Scotland. Scotland was cold. He hated the cold.

Professor McGonagall sat opposite Fred, where she was quickly brought a tea set by Mrs Johnson.

"Thank you," she said, and she began to pour her tea. There was a short silence, and then she began.

"So, Fred," she started, giving him a kind smile. "I've come to talk to you about a proposition I have for you."

"Yes, about that... I'm not going." Professor McGonagall raised her eyebrows, Mrs Johnson looked furious and Mr Johnson looked baffled, if a little amused.

"I don't want to be a lawyer, politician or anything like that," he continued, "and if I went to this school I would hate it and run away. I'm not kidding."

"Quite," she said, smiling. "Mr Weasley," (he rolled his eyes at her calling him that) "I'm not here about a school of politics, or law, or anything like that. I'm here about a school of magic."

Mrs Johnson choked on her tea and Mr Johnson dropped his glass of cider, where it smashed with a crash on the hard wooden floor. Fred simply stared, before he began to laugh.

"Very funny. You're not going to trick me into going. Not happening. Nope."

"Mr Weasley..."

"I'm not Weasley. I'm Johnson."

Mr Johnson looked up in surprise, and his eyes met with Fred's. He had never said that before.

"Okay then, Mr Johnson. I am not joking, I assure you."

Mrs Johnson, having just recovered from her choking, began to speak.

"A school of magic? How ridiculous. These magicians don't perform magic, it's illusions. That's all it is."

"Is that right?" Professor McGonagall said. "Well, this isn't a school of illusions. It is a school of true magic. Fred, you are a wizard. There is no point fluttering around the subject. You were born with magic and you will have it all your life."

"I don't believe you." There was an awkward silence while Fred's eyes blazed with fire at this strange woman who had come into their home and told such lies.

"Let me demonstrate," she said after a long pause. She took out a long stick from her robe and pointed it at the broken glass at Mr Johnson's feet. A stream of sparks flew from the stick and the glass repaired itself, before floating up into the air, filling with cold sparking cider and hovering in front of Mrs Johnson's eyes. He stared in bewilderment before taking it from the air.

"I guess we can't have much more proof that that," he said faintly. Mrs Johnson looked like she was going to faint, but Fred's eyes were shining.

"You're telling me that I can do that?" The Professor smiled and nodded.

"One day. First, you have to come to our school. It's called Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and the school year starts on the first of September. Here is your letter, telling you everything you need to know. There is a pub called the Leaky Cauldron on Charing Cross Road in London. You will see it, although most people will walk straight past it. Ask the landlord where to go, and then go straight to Gringotts, the bank. Here is the key to your vault, but it may be best to use your Muggle money and exchange it."

"What's Muggle?" he asked, his heart thumping from all this information. Mrs Johnson still looked like she was going to collapse, and her tea was pouring slowly from her mug, which she was still holding but appeared to have forgotten about.

"A Muggle is a non-magical person. Like everyone you have ever met, probably. As I was saying, once you have your money, you must buy everything on your list, enclosed in your letter there. Then on the first of September, the train to Hogwarts leaves from platform nine and three quarters at eleven o'clock, so I recommend you get there in plenty of time. Your ticket it also enclosed in your letter."

After another silence where she looked at each person in the room, smiling reassuringly at them, she stood up.

"Well, that's everything you need to know. Your foster parents may go with you to buy your school supplies. Thank you for your time and I will see you on the first."

And with that she left, leaving a shocked family behind her.

"Well," Mr Johnson said, clearing his throat, "at least we have your school sorted out now Fred."

Mrs Johnson stood up, straightening her skirt and placing her now empty mug on the coffee table. She closed her eyes, as if collecting herself, and then opened them. Fred was looking up at her, his eyes shining with excitement.

"Well I can't say no now can I?" She smiled for the first time in a while, and looked up at the calender on the wall.

"First of September... that's in two weeks!" Fred groaned. He knew this tone. Her organisational skills were coming into play. "Right, we need to go to this place the Professor told us about, as soon as possible. I need to take some money out to exchange, and I need to start packing. Of course, we need to tell your other school we had lined up for you that you aren't going and..."

She carried on talking rapidly, and Fred met Mr Johnson's glance. He smiled knowingly and shook his head at his wife's panicking. They said nothing. They didn't need to. Their eyes said everything they needed to say.

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><p>It was six o'clock in the afternoon and Fred and Sam were sat in their usual spots on the swings, with Helena leaning against a nearby tree. Fred had been silent. He didn't know how to tell them. Thankfully, Sam interrupted the silence.<p>

"Fred, what's up? You've been quiet today. Is it about that school you had a meeting about today? Is Mum forcing you to go?"

"No, she isn't," he said. "I... I want to go."

Helena looked up, eyebrows raised, and put her book down. "Really?" she said. "I find that hard to believe."

"It's not a school for law, or business, or politics, or anything I hate."

"What is it then?" Sam's eyes were keen, interested.

"It's... it's a school of magic." Helena snorted and Sam stared.

"Sure, sure," Helena said, standing up. "Sure you don't want to just admit that you've gone over to the dark side and want to be Prime Minister now?" She walked away, laughing. "I'll speak to you guys later, I'm going out with Anna and Jane."

She left, leaving Sam and Fred in silence.

"Sam," he said after a while. "You have to believe me. I really am going to a school of magic. I didn't believe it either, but then she mended a glass and made it fly and everything. It's... it's mad, I know, but I want you to understand, more than anything."

"I... it's hard Fred. Not that you're magic, I always knew you were different-"

"You believe me then?" Fred interrupted.

"Yeah, I do... but Fred, don't leave me, please."

"What do you mean? Whatever school I went to, I'd be leaving you. Not properly though, I'll always be here for you!"

"No, it's just... with all those people like you, you might forget me."

"Never. Don't think like that. These people might still be different. I'm not exactly normal, even in wizard standards."

Sam grinned. "Okay, as long as you promise. You have to show me the magic you learn though."

"Of course. It's so exciting that I'm gonna learn something useful. I wouldn't be surprised if Mum makes me go into wizard politics..."

They started laughing, and the pair stayed on the swings until it was completely dark and they were called in to go to bed, where Fred wouldn't sleep a wink all night.

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><p><strong>AN: Okay, I'm back! Feel free to write me abusive reviews, I understand completely. I am awful and a disgrace to fanfic authors. I finished my exams yesterday though and I simply had to come back to my favourite pair of ginger people ever. This story always makes me excited to write, so expect fairly rapid updates. I'm sorry, its the way I roll. Unless you like that sort of thing of course... please review, abusive or not ;D**

_Next Chapter: George has a strange visitor._


	5. Chapter 4

Separation, Chapter 4

In the woods, George Weasley was lying on the soft patch of moss in the middle of his favourite clearing. It was about one o'clock in the afternoon, and he had been there since early that morning. It was unlikely the Crofts had missed him.

The sun was shining through the trees, golden rays lighting up the clearing. Tiny particles of dust floated in the air, and it smelt like flowers. It was silent but for the sound of birds singing.

Well, it was silent until George's stomach rumbled. He groaned and stood up. Time to go back and get food, as quickly as possible. He made his way out of the woods, tripping on a branch and leaving a long, deep scratch on his arm. He barely even noticed it.

He arrived back at the house to Mrs Croft standing at the door, looking furious. "Where have you been?" she shrieked. Apparently they had missed him.

"Not here," he replied. She gave him an evil look before continuing.

"A man is here to see you. About a school." She smiled cruelly. "Freak school, I'm guessing."

George followed her through to the tiny kitchen, dreading what he was about to hear. She had probably referred him a mental institute or something like that.

There was an incredibly old man with very long, white hair and beard, sat at the kitchen table. He had half moon glasses on the end of his nose. He smiled at George.

"Hello George, I am Professor Dumbledore."

A Professor. That proved it then.

"I'm Headmaster at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. I am here to offer you a place at my school."

Haw haw. Funny. Sounded like the headmaster was a bit mental too. Bet that's a good mental institute then. A mental place with mental kids and mental teachers too. Bet even the cleaners were mental.

"Sure you are. I'm about as magic as you are sane."

The man chuckled. "I see you have humour. Good. I assure you though, this is not a lie. You are a wizard, George, and I want you to come to my school. You will have the best education you could possibly have, and I have the greatest confidence you will be a fantastic wizard."

"I don't believe you."

"Yes, that's what everyone says. Have you ever done anything strange, that you can't explain? Or even witnessed great things that you didn't even think were anything to do with you?"

"I... I suppose I have, yeah. That's still not proof though. Weird things happen all the time."

"Only to people like you or I. I see you scratched yourself, Mr Weasley."

"Wha... oh, yeah. I fell over on the way up here."

"I can see that. The blood is fresh. And yet, the scratch has healed over. Can you see that?"

George looked, and noticed the old man was absolutely right. He would never have noticed it.

"Yeah, I see it. Maybe it was just a very thin scratch"

"With that much blood? Okay, Mr Weasley, I'll show you some magic now. You must believe what I'm saying before I give you the details, else I really would be wasting my time, wouldn't I?" He said this with a twinkle in his eye that George couldn't help but like.

Suddenly, the fridge burst into flames. Mrs Croft, who has been silent up to now, screamed and jumped away from it.

"Do not worry yourself Madam, this is merely a demonstration. Look, your fridge is perfectly fine, and if you care to look inside, I promise you the milk has not gone sour."

True enough, the fridge had stopped burning as quickly as it has started, and there was not a mark on it. George's mouth was wide open in shock. Magic. _Magic. _

Mrs Croft, after opening the fridge and confirming that all the food was unaffected, leaned against the wall and gave Professor Dumbledore a scathing look.

"What a load of rubbish. Absolutely ridiculous."

"I assure you, what I say is the truth."

"This kid is perfectly normal, and there is nothing special about him at all!"

"You absolute hypocrite!" George blazed angrily. "How many times have you told me that I'm mental? All those things I did to Ben, and you called me a freak! You _know _I'm different, and now you try to deny it?"

She had pursed her lips, and was about to answer when the man interrupted.

"Please, do not argue on my account. I merely wanted to show you the kind of thing you will be studying at Hogwarts, George, and I hope you will make the choice to join us. I am positive you will love it there. Do you accept your place?"

"Yes, definitely!" he said, grinning. Mrs Croft was silent for a moment, before saying:

"Yes, he can go. But he isn't coming back here, not ever. I'll be glad to get rid of him."

"That's a shame, Mrs Croft," he said, eyebrows furrowed. "But if that is your wish, we will be happy to make arrangements for him."

"And he's not getting any money either."

"I'm sure we will manage," he replied, giving George a kind smile. "Now, George, term starts on the first of September, and you must buy all your supplies as soon as possible. Directions to Diagon Alley are enclosed, as is your train ticket and your shopping list. Here is your key for your vault at Gringotts, the wizard bank. There is not much in there, I will warn you, but there should be enough, if you make do with second hand supplies where possible. You will need some money to travel to London no doubt, so here you go, have some Muggle money that I took to travel here. I chose Muggle transport to get here, just out of interest. I will take other means to get back."

"What's a Muggle?" George asked, confused.

"Oh, someone who doesn't have any magical powers, that's all. Like this good lady here." He gestured to Mrs Croft who scowled gracelessly.

"Well, I must take my leave. I look forward to seeing you on the first of September. Thank you for your time Mrs Croft."

And with that, he left. There was a silence, before Mrs Croft left the room without saying anything. George grinned. He couldn't wait for the day when he could leave this place behind forever.

A _wizard._ He could barely believe it. His life had always seemed so meaningless, and now he had a purpose. He could make friends. Actual friends.

Suddenly, his life seemed so much brighter.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: So, Fred and George both know now! Woohoo! Seriously, this chapter was written in record time for me, quite proud! ;D The similarities are intentional, and the two chapters are meant to happen on the same day. I hope you liked, I'm looking forward to writing the next chapter! The fun will start fairly soon :P Please review and tell me what you think! Thanks very much to sharu, Spiralling-Down, aleir29, SkyeElf, GeorgieForever, SolelyReader, and TwinFan for your lovely reviews, you guys make it so worth it!  
><strong>

_Next chapter: Fred and George go shopping._


	6. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

It was 11 o'clock in the morning, and Fred was walking along Charing Cross Road, with Mr and Mrs Johnson in tow behind him. It was a fairly dull day, with a light mist in the air; about as different as Fred felt as chalk is different from cheese.

Suddenly, his eyes fell on a tiny, dusty door, squashed between a cheap looking bookshop and a record store. No one seemed to even notice it, and indeed Mr and Mrs Johnson didn't seem to have either.

"Over there, look," he said to them, pointing directly to it. They still couldn't seem to identify where he was pointing, and it wasn't until Fred had dragged them up to about two metres away from the door that they finally saw it.

"You ready, Fred?" Mr Johnson said in his low, kindly voice. "You feeling nervous?"

"No, not really, more excited than anything!" He took a deep breath and pushed open the door.

The Leaky Cauldron was a dark, dusty bar with big wooden beams along the walls and the ceiling, and unstable looking tables and chairs. The floor creaked as the three walked over towards the bar.

The most unusual aspect of the pub was the people themselves- or rather the witches and wizards. 'Wow, that sounded strange', Fred thought.'Witches and wizards...'

There was an old, tiny looking man sat at a table on the other side of the room with a bald shining head and many piercings. He was smoking a pipe that emitted a green smoke, which seemed to sparkle as it floated lazily through the air.

On another table sat a pair of witches, one with wild white hair and pink eyes, and another with neat, cropped black hair. They had been laughing, but had stopped the moment Fred and the Johnson's walked in. He was starting to feel nervous now.

They reached the bar and stood by it awkwardly, wondering how to call the landlord. Their problems were soon solved, however, when a toothless, balding old man walked through into the bar and gave them a wide, if a bit manic, smile.

"Hello there young sir," he said to Fred, "and to your parents too!"

Fred didn't bother to correct him, and smiled back at the jolly barman.

"Hello, I'm here to go to Diagon Alley? I'm going to Hogwarts in September, only-"

"-you don't know how to get in," he finished knowingly. "It's quite easy really, I'll take you through now. Unless you'd like a drink first of course?"

"No, we're quite alright, thank you," Mrs Johnson said. " If you would take us through, we would be ever so grateful."

"Of course, Madam, if you just follow me then."

The family followed the old man behind the bar and through a door, taking them out into a tiny backyard with bins and a solid brick wall. He grinned mischievously at them, before taking out a wand and tapping a few times on several of the bricks.

Fred's mouth opened wide as the bricks began to move entirely of their own accord, gradually revealing a crowded and brightly coloured street. The Johnson's said thank you to the old man, and then moved out into the bustling crowd. Fred could barely decide where to look- it was so incredible and new and _magical. _

Mrs Johnson, normally so confident and full of purpose, seemed utterly in awe. She kept stopping, looking at the owls and the broomsticks, until Mr Johnson took her hand and pulled her along towards the huge white building at the end.

"That big building at the end looks like a kind of bank," he said. "Come on, we need to go there first, then we can look everywhere else as much as we please."

After much pushing and shoving, they finally reached the large, white stone building. On the large, silver doors was etched an engraving:

_Enter, stranger, but take heed  
>Of what awaits the sin of greed<br>For those who take, but do not earn,  
>Must pay most dearly in their turn.<br>So if you seek beneath our floors  
>A treasure that was never yours,<br>Thief, you have been warned, beware  
>Of finding more than treasure there.<em>

"Wow, we'd better be careful in here," Mr Johnson said, giving Fred a wink. "Especially you, Fred, I know what you're like."

They pushed open the door and walked into a huge, marble floored room, rectangular with two columns of desks lining the main aisle. Mrs Johnson walked up to the nearest desk and was about to start talking when she saw the creature sitting behind it, looking down at her over a ridiculously crooked nose. Her mouth dropped and she simply stared.

The creature, a goblin, Fred guessed, was glaring at Mrs Johnson, and was beginning to look impatient, so Fred took over.

"Hello there, I have a key for my vault, and I was wondering if I could exchange some Muggle money, please?"

The goblin moved his gaze over to the red head, and surveyed him closely.

"Key, please." Fred handed him the tiny key and waited. The goblin held the key right up to his eyes, and ruffled through some papers.

"How much Muggle money would you like to exchange?" he said, looking bored.

"Four hundred pounds, please," Fred replied.

"Okay, I will get that sorted for you, and then I'll get one of my assistants to take you down to your vault. I warn you, if you get travel sickness, don't go."

Mrs Johnson looked worried. "I think I'll give it a miss..."

"Okay, just stay here and we'll be right back," said Mr Johnson, giving her a reassuring smile.

"I wouldn't count on that," said the goblin, with a satisfied grin. "The vaults spread out for miles, and yours just happens to be one of the furthest."

"Oh, okay... well, go take a look around Diagon Alley then, we'll find you when we're done."

And with that, Fred and Mr Johnson followed the tiny goblin towards a big black door at the end of the room, leaving a nervous Mrs Johnson behind.

* * *

><p>George followed the old, toothless old man behind the bar, out into a tiny, cramped backyard. "Haven't you been here before?" said the old man, scrutinizing him closely.<p>

"No, I haven't, why?" replied George.

"No, no, no reason in particular, I'm just sure I recognise you... ah well, I'm an old man, probably getting confused."

The landlord tapped on the wall and it began to open to reveal a long street, full to bursting with witches and wizards and screeching owls and books and-

George hardly knew where to look. Professor Dumbledore had told him to go to the bank first, so that was where he must go. But where was it?

"Excuse me," he said to a short, plump woman with short brown hair near to him. She was dressed normally, to him at least, in a long flowery skirt and blouse. "Would you mind telling me where Gringotts bank is, please?"

"Fred!" she said, smiling. "I'm glad you found me, I was just looking at the owls here, the tiny ones are so sweet!

George looked blank. "N...no, sorry, my name isn't Fred- I'm George, but I really would like to know where the bank is..."

Her face fell, and she looked worried. "It's over there, the big white building," she said in a whisper, and began to walk away. "I'm going mad, this place is sending me crazy," George heard her say as she walked away.

He shrugged his shoulders and walked in the direction she had pointed out.

* * *

><p>Fred and Mr Johnson left Gringotts bank about half an hour later with a large bag of gold, silver and bronze coins. The journey to the vault had been exciting but terrifying.<p>

The two of them left the bank into a huge crowd, now even more crowded than before. Fred wanted to start shopping immediately, but Mr Johnson was firm- they had to find Mrs Johnson first.

After a short while, they saw her standing next to the book shop, flicking through a book with pictures of flowers.

"Having fun?" Fred said, poking her in the back and making her jump a mile. "What's your book about?"

She looked flustered, and frowned at her foster son.

"It's about Muggle plants and their hidden magical properties," she said. "Very interesting, I think I'll buy it."

"Okay, shall we buy your books first then?" Mr Johnson suggested, and on Fred's nodding the three walked into the shop.

Mrs Johnson looked troubled, and Fred asked her what was wrong.

"No, no, it's nothing, only... I think this place is sending me a bit crazy. I think I'm seeing things."

"Why, what happened?" Mr Johnson patted her on the back in a soothing way.

"I saw someone, and I really thought he was Fred. He looked exactly the same, I swear it."

"No, he was with me the whole time, it definitely wasn't him," he told her, his eyebrows furrowed.

"Don't worry though," Fred said, grinning, "all ginger people look the same, it's an easy mistake to make!"

She laughed weakly, and shook her head. "Yeah, it's fine, I feel okay now, maybe I just got overheated or something. Come on, show me your book list and we'll get them as quickly as possible, I know books aren't really your thing Fred."

* * *

><p>George entered stood outside a dusty, abandoned looking shop with a single cushion in the window with a wand in its centre. The shop was open, he could see that, but he felt somewhat apprehensive about entering. Nevertheless, he pushed open the creaking door and rang the bell on the counter.<p>

A strange, wizened old man with fluffy grey hair and wide, pale eyes appeared from behind the tall, unstable looking shelves. He had an unearthly aura around him that sent shivers down his spine.

"Ah, Mr Weasley," he said with a wide smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "I'm Mr Ollivander. I've been wondering when I'd be seeing you. Very interesting, yes..."

"What's interesting?"

"Nothing, nothing," he said as he disappeared behind the shelves. George could hear him rummaging around, and he came back seconds later with three long, thin boxes. He took out a wand from the first and held it out to George.

"I have a good feeling about this wand, Mr Weasley," he said. "Go on, give it a wave."

George took the wand from Mr Ollivander and felt an immediate warmth through his hand and spreading through his whole body. A shower of sparks burst from the wand and formed into the shape of a ship, floating through the air until it disappeared in the light from the window.

"Ah!" Mr Ollivander exclaimed in joy. "First time! I knew it, I just knew it. Brothers indeed..."

"Sorry, what?"

"You will find out, Mr Weasley," he said, grinning. "I predict you're going to have a most interesting year, yes indeed, very interesting. Now, that's ten galleons please-"

"Ten galleons?" George said, panicking. "That's nearly all my money!"

Ollivander gave him a piercing look. "Well, you'll have to get over that, Mr Weasley. Wand-making is a refined art form and one has to make one's money. Ten galleons please."

George handed it over grudgingly. He would barely have enough for the rest of his equipment- everything would have to be second hand and scruffy. Fabulous.

It was worth it though- this wand was his now, and no one else's. It had chosen him, and something about this fact made every other worry disappear from his mind.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Thank you so much for reading again, this chapter was a difficult one for me. I almost got stuck inn another writer's block, but I made it through. Did you notice the many hints that they are twins? ;) Like anyone needs the hints anyway, but heck, its fun to write! And yes, the many parallels are intentional. Special thanks to Spiralling-Down, GeorgieForever, and TwinFan for your lovely reviews :)  
><strong>

**Please review! Thank you again for being so fabulous! **


	7. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

George lay in his bed, staring at the calender on his wall. This was it. In five hours he would be leaving this house for the last time to catch the train to London, where he would be travelling at full speed towards his new life.

It was strange to think that he could be a completely different person in one years time. He could have friends, he could be practising spells deep into the early hours of the night. Perhaps he could find out more about why he was abandoned as a child. Did his parents have a reason, or did they simply not want him?

Whatever the reason, this prospect of a new life made him smile.

* * *

><p>Fred opened his eyes and looked at the clock again. Ugh. Still only two o'clock. It had been three minutes to two what had seemed hours ago. Couldn't it just be time to go, now?<p>

What would the future hold, he wondered. He wished he could take Sam with him, so much. What if witches and wizards were completely different to him? He knew he had always been different at his school before, but that never mattered, because he didn't care. But now, this was a different story. These people really mattered to him. They were like him.

Would he make friends? Who would he share his dormitory with? He closed his eyes and imagined what they could possibly be like. Funny, kind. He hoped they would be like him, even if they only had small similarities.

Two minutes past two. Only eight hours and fifty eight minute to go.

* * *

><p>It was half past ten and George Weasley stood between platforms nine and ten, staring at the wall in confusion. Where did he go now? He was about to ask someone when a black boy with dreadlocks and an infectious smile appeared behind him.<p>

"Going to Hogwarts?" he said, with the widest smile George had ever seen. "It's my first year, exciting times, right?"

"Yeah, very. It's my first year too."

"Where are your parents? Mine are just with the security guards, I don't think they appreciated the car being parked right in the middle of the entrance."

"I don't have any parents," George replied with an awkward grin.

The boy's face fell. "Oh, I'm sorry about that, are you here alone then?"

"No, they aren't dead, I just won't be seeing them again; don't be sorry, I'm glad to see the back of them! And yeah, I'm alone. A bit lost actually, no idea where platform nine and three quarters is."

"Don't worry, I'll show you. You just walk through that barrier there- here, I'll show you. I'd run it if I were you."

And with that, the boy ran at the 'solid' brick wall and disappeared. George blinked a few times. What just happened?

He shook his head in bewilderment and stood directly in front of the barrier. He took a deep breath and ran.

Seconds later, he had appeared on a platform, standing in front of the brick wall he had just ran through. The boy stood nearby, and laughed as George approached him. "Mad, right? Trust me, life is going to be like this daily at Hogwarts. I'm Lee by the way."

He held out his hand and George shook it. "I'm George."

"Nice to meet you George. I'd better go find my parents anyway, but I'll see you later yeah?"

"Yeah, sure, bye." George smiled at the retreating figure of his first friend. There was the train, in front of him. He couldn't believe it. In twenty minutes he would be flying away and leaving his old life behind.

* * *

><p>Fred stood in front of the barrier with Mr and Mrs Johnson, Sam and Helena.<p>

"I guess this is the one Professor McGonagall told us about. We just run at it, right?"

"I guess so," Mrs Johnson said, biting her lip uncertainly.

"I'll go first then," Fred told them, giving them a reassuring smile. "Don't worry, it will be fine. Just follow right behind me."

And off he went, disappearing from the view of his family and into his new world. Sam appeared first, and laughed in the madness of it all. "Brilliant, just brilliant," he said.

Moment later, Mr Johnson, Helena, and finally Mrs Johnson appeared. It was ten minutes to eleven.

There was silence before Mr Johnson said, "so, I suppose it's time to say goodbye. You need to get a good seat Fred, it's a long journey."

Fred swallowed. "Yeah, I know. I just... don't know what to say. Just, thank you. I really appreciate your support, however crazy all this is."

Mrs Johnson stepped forward and gave him a long hug. Tears began to fall from her eyes.

"Don't cry, I'll write to you regularly, I promise! At least you won't have to put up with my awful table manners now." He patted her on the back and pulled away. "It's not even a real goodbye, I'll be back at Christmas and then think of all the amazing things I'll have to tell you!" She smiled weakly and dried her eyes.

"Your table manners never mattered that much to me," she said, stepping back as Mr Johnson pulled Fred into a hug.

"I'll miss you, you know," he said quietly in Fred's ear. "She's going to send me mad now." He gave Fred a wink as he stepped back to her side, putting his arm around her.

Helena's eyes were red, but she wasn't crying.

"I suppose I have to believe you now," she said. "What more proof can I have?"

"Not much, I assure you." Fred hugged her too. "Just, give me that smile, I don't want to go without seeing it again." She did as he asked and he smiled too. "I'll miss you too, of course I will."

She nodded silently. Her face said everything she needed to say.

And then it was Sam. Fred felt a stab in his heart at Sam's face. "I will write to you, you know I will."

"Yeah, course. Not going to be the same without you though."

"It won't be the same without you either. I really wish you could come with me."

"I wish I could too. I don't want to go back to that place."

"When I'm back, Sam, I'll show you how to teach them a lesson. Promise."

A bell rang and Fred looked at the clock. One minute to eleven. He looked back at Sam's large, sad eyes and stepped away. After one last, long look at his family, he stepped onto the train and didn't look back.

He took a deep breath and felt a new kind of freedom. Here he was. The train began to move and he dragged his trunk down the train, looking into compartments. They were all full. He frowned, wondering what to do, when a black boy with dreadlocks appeared in front of him, and smiled widely.

"There you are George, I've got us a compartment down here."

"Er, I'm not George. My name's Fred. But thanks, I'll sit with you if you don't mind."

The boy frowned. "I swear you said you were called George. I'm Lee, remember?"

Fred shook his head, grinning. "Nope. I know who you are now though. I'm definitely Fred."

Lee shrugged his shoulders. "Ah well, I'm getting confused no doubt. Maybe I met another ginger person earlier. Let's face it-"

"-all ginger people look the same," finished Fred. Lee laughed loudly.

"Yeah, I suppose you're right! I haven't met many ginger people before, maybe you have a distinct look. Come on, let's go sit down."

* * *

><p>George was sat in a compartment, alone, when a tall, thuggish looking boy with black hair and crooked teeth entered. Behind him were two others, a boy and a girl, both with blonde hair, and none of them looked too friendly.<p>

"Haven't I just seen you? Why have you moved compartments? This is ours," said the boy with dark hair.

George feigned a look of confusion. "Oh, really? I didn't get that idea, you know, since I've been sat here for about fifteen minutes."

"No, you haven't. Better get out then, hadn't you."

"Aw, that's a shame. I was hoping to stay and make friends with you, you really look like the type of person that I'd _really _get on with_._ No, really."

The boy looked furious and took out his wand. "Go on, unless you want me to stop that funny talk of yours permanently."

"I don't know if I really want to go, sorry. Might have to go somewhere else, won't you?"

"That's it," said the boy. He raised his wand and sparks flew in his direction, but died away before they reached him.

George looked sympathetic. "I can tell you've definitely got some natural talent there. Don't worry, I'm going."

George pushed past the three vile students and slid the door shut behind them. He continued on down the train, looking for Lee. Eventually, he saw Lee's face through the door, talking to someone else in there with him. He opened the door of the compartment and walked in.

"Mind if I sit with you Lee?" Without answering he sat next to Lee and looked up at the other boy sat with him.

"What the-"

"-hell?"

* * *

><p><strong>AN: So there we go! I had so much fun writing this! The excitement has finally started. I hope you liked this as much as I like writing it. Please review, I'll love you forever? Thanks so much for reading! Special thanks to SkyeElf, GeorgieForever, Spiralling-Down, and SolelyReader.  
><strong>

**PS. Updates may be slower in the next week or so, sorry, but I'll try my best.  
><strong>


	8. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

There was a deathly silence as the two stared in confusion.

"Ha!" shouted Lee in delight. "What a turn of events this is!"

Fred and George said nothing.

"You sure one of you isn't on Polyjuice potion?" Lee continued.

"What's Polyjuice potion?" they said together.

Lee looked like Christmas had come early. "You said that together! Oh my life, this is too brilliant, I've got to go and tell Angelina, she'll love this!" And with that he hurried out, leaving Fred and George alone, staring at each other.

Several minutes had passed before Fred cleared his throat. He held out his hand to George.

"I'm Fred."

"I'm George."

Silence.

"So..." Fred coughed awkwardly. "Are you going to say it or am I?"

"Say what?"

"That we're twins."

George said nothing.

"I mean, we must be," Fred continued. "We're identical. No other option. Unless you're on this Polyjuice potion, whatever that is," he added as an afterthought.

"No, I'm not. This is me. One hundred per cent. You sure you're not?"

"Yep, absolutely. Makes sense, a couple of people have said they've seen someone exactly like me."

"Yeah, I know the feeling. I've had it several times."

Silence.

"You're fostered then, too?"

"Yeah."

Silence.

"So I guess we need to know more about each other then?" Fred said, smiling. "I know it's tough, but come on, we need to try."

"Yeah, suppose we do."

Silence.

"Okay, I'll start. My foster parents are called Philip and Janet Johnson. I have an older sister called Helena and a younger brother called Sam. I went to boarding school and I hated it. And now I'm here." He grinned, and George smiled back weakly. "What about you, George?"

"My adopted parents were called Neil and April Croft. They had a son called Ben. Neil died on a night out drinking. I was glad to see the back of him. Ben made my life at school hell. April hated me so made my life at home hell. Now I'm coming here, I'm never going to see them again."

Silence.

"I'm sorry about that, George, I really am," Fred said quietly.

"Yeah, so am I."

Silence.

"You're coming to Hogwarts now though," he said cheerily. "You can try to forget about them now, you've got a new life ahead of you." He paused. "You've got me now."

George looked up at his twin, but his eyes still showed immense sadness. "But at least you've had someone in your life. You've had a family. I've been kept a prisoner."

"But now you're free. Try and forget the past, just look forwards."

"It's hard when they've left your mark on you."

"What do you mean?"

"Nothing, only, its impossible to forget them."

Silence.

"George. I'm your family now. Your real family."

"But you've already got a family."

"I have, and now you're in it."

George smiled, the first true smile, one that touched his eyes and made then glitter in the exact way that Fred's did.

"Thanks, Fred. It means a lot."

At that moment, Lee burst into the compartment. "Angelina loves you two already, and she hasn't even met you! She said the twin thing is brilliant."

Fred and George laughed at their absurdly excitable new friend.

"So," Lee continued, "what's your last names?"

George said "Weasley" and Fred said "Johnson" at the same time.

"But, I suppose it's Weasley and Johnson," Fred continued. After a glance at George, he decided.

"It's Weasley." George gave Fred an unreasonable expression. Was it gratitude, or something completely different?

"Fabulous!" Lee cried. "You two are actually _brilliant!_ The fun we're going to have in lessons- you'll be confusing the teachers, doing each others tests- it's going to be fabulous! As long as we're in the same house of course..."

"House?" said George, looking puzzled.

"Yeah, there are four houses at Hogwarts, Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw and Slytherin. You basically live with the people in your house, so all I can say is, you'd better be in my house, both of you."

"You can't guarantee we'll be in the same house though," George said. Fred looked strangely at his twin, as if slightly hurt by the comment. "I mean, we've known each other for ten minutes, and yes, we may look the same, but we're still different people inside."

Lee looked disappointed. "Well, that might change. The main thing is that you'll be in Gryffindor. I will be, hopefully, just like the rest of my family. I don't want to break tradition!"

There was a brief silence before Lee jumped up. "I need some food, the trolley is way down the other end of the train, I saw it on the way to see Angelina, but I can't wait any longer. Want anything?"

George shook his head but Fred reached into his pocket and gave Lee a handful of coins. "Just buy anything and everything, I want to try as much as there is."

"Okay, I might be a while then. See you both in a bit."

On Lee's leaving, Fred turned to George and said: "What's up, George? You can tell me you know."

"There's nothing wrong, honest."

"I can tell you're lying. Don't even pretend to me."

George sighed. "It's just, this whole thing. Knowing I could have had someone by my side through it all. Knowing that I needn't have been alone. It's frustrating and unfair. It makes me think, why?"

"Why did they abandon us?"

"Yeah, exactly."

Fred paused for a moment. "I honestly haven't got a clue. But they must have had a good reason, right?"

"I don't know. Doesn't seem to me that anything is a good enough reason to leave your kids."

"You're right, yeah. I have a feeling though, a feeling in my gut, that they didn't want to lose us." He grinned mischievously. "I mean, who would want to lose us? Look at us, we're perfect."

"Completely perfect," George agreed, laughing with his twin. "You know, I've just realised, having you here is a blessing, I can look at how amazingly attractive I am _all day._"

"And we can learn to-"

"-finish each other's sentences-"

"-and swap places-"

"-to confuse the teachers."

The twins looked amazed at this moment, and then both suddenly had a look of glee on their faces, like a sudden epiphany had appeared in their minds at the same time.

"_Brilliant," _they said together.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: So, what do you think? Do you think its realistic enough? I found it tough, I have to be honest. I could only ever imagine the twins together, until this idea came up for this story, and now it seems so unbelievably difficult to write them as two separate people. Really hard for me, this chapter was, so please review and give me your thoughts! All reviews are greatly appreciated. Thank you for reading! Special thanks to SkyeElf, KatiePennn, Spiralling-Down, TwinFan, GeorgieForever, and PotterheadWhovian for your lovely reviews :)  
><strong>


	9. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

It was almost dark when the three had stopped talking and were almost asleep. Lee, however, suddenly jumped up, making Fred and George leap a mile.

"We'd better get changed," Lee told them. "We should be there in about five minutes. Come on, get your robes out and we'll get them on quickly, then we can get off so we don't go steaming back to London before we've even started."

The twins nodded, reaching above their heads and grabbing their trunks. Fred didn't notice George's look at his trunk- Fred's was much larger and didn't have a large tear down the front repaired with masking tape. George looked away and pulled out his robes.

Two minutes later the three stood in the compartment with their Hogwarts robes on. Fred and Lee's were identical, but Georges was strangely greyed and several inches too short for him. Lee was about to say something when Fred cleared his throat. "Come on, we'd better get off."

Lee agreed and left the compartment, and Fred gave George a small smile which George returned, looking embarrassed.

Moments later, Lee and the twins were stood in awe, staring at a huge giant of a man with a mane of long tangled black hair and a beard. He looked down at them kindly.

"How yeh feelin'?" he asked them. "Nervous?"

"Yeah, I suppose so," George said, and Fred agreed. "More looking forward to it than anything though."

The giant winked at them. "That's the way teh think about it," he told them. "Make the most of it. Yeh'll only ever see Hogwarts for the first time once. An' it's one of the best moments yeh'll ever have."

The three boys' eyes were shining, and when they were following the huge man towards a fleet of boats, Fred and George got into one and Lee got into another with a good looking black girl- the twins guessed she was Angelina.

Once everyone was in a boat, they began to move of their own accord. They soon reached a tunnel in the rock, with a curtain of ivy hanging right into the water.

However, nothing could have prepared them for what lay on the other side of the tunnel. Every single student gasped at the sight of the huge castle that loomed high above them, reaching up the starry sky. Hundreds of windows flickered by candle light.

Even Lee was silent in the boat next to them, and George felt shivers down his spine. He glanced at Fred and could tell that he felt the same.

The lake was very large, but the journey across it seemed to pass in the blink of an eye. When they got off the boats and had walked a short distance up to the castle, the giant (who had introduced himself as Hagrid) knocked three times on the huge doors.

Boom. Boom. Boom. There was a short silence, and then the enormous doors began to open slowly.

Fred recognised the witch standing, tall and regal, to welcome them in, as Professor McGonagall, this time wearing emerald green robes.

"Welcome, first-years, to Hogwarts," she said to them. "I'm Professor McGonagall and I am head of Gryffindor house and deputy headmistress of Hogwarts. If you would follow me please. Thank you, Hagrid."

Hagrid nodded and gave the first-years an encouraging smile before turning and disappearing back where he had came from. The group of eleven year olds followed Professor McGonagall into the castle and the door was shut behind them.

They found themselves in a huge entrance hall, with hundreds of portraits on the walls, lit by flaming torches. The ceiling was so high they could barely make it out.

Professor McGonagall cleared her throat and began to talk. "Through these doors-" she waved her hand towards two large oak doors, at least ten feet high, "-is the Great Hall. The rest of the school is already seated waiting for us. The Sorting Ceremony will take place, where each of you will go up to the stool in the middle in turn, where you will try on the Sorting Hat and will be placed in one of the four house, Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff and Slytherin. Is that all clear?"

The first-years nodded, looking terrified. Professor McGonagall nodded. "We will have to wait a few moments before they're ready for us, so you may talk amongst yourselves."

A soft murmuring of talk soon broke out. Professor McGonagall headed in the direction of the twins.

"So, you've met have you?"

The twins nodded.

She sighed. "I am very sorry, both of you," she said. "It was a difficult situation, I'm sure you understand why we couldn't tell you of each other's existence."

"Yeah, I guess so," Fred said, but George remained silent.

"How are you, anyway, Mr Johnson?" she asked him. "Did you find Diagon Alley easily enough?"

"Yeah, I did. But it's Weasley now, not Johnson."

George glanced sideways at Fred with an unreadable expression.

"You do change your mind quickly don't you, Mr Weasley? It's a good thing I control the list for the sorting isn't it? Or you would have been sorted under the wrong name," Professor McGonagall said, frowning. "And what about you, Mr Weasley? Did you find your way easily enough?"

George shrugged. "Guess so." Professor McGonagall gave him a piercing look, and was about to say something when she saw a scruffy man with long, thin grey hair and bulging eyes approaching them.

"They're ready for you, Professor," he said, looking over at the first-years in an ugly manner. Fred and George immediately disliked him.

"Okay, thank you Filch. Follow me then, first-years. The Sorting is about to begin."

The twins felt their stomachs drop and they followed the Professor through the oak doors.

The Great Hall amazed them, possibly even more than the first view of the castle had. There were four long tables, two on either side of the main aisle, full of students, who were all staring at the group of eleven year olds. There was one final, long table at the far end of the hall, facing the students, which was apparently where the teachers sat. George recognised Professor Dumbledore sat in the middle of the table. Thousands of candles floated in the air, giving the hall a beautiful glow. But the most amazing thing was the fact that instead of a ceiling, they looked straight out at what looked like the night sky, with stars glittering down at them.

Professor McGonagall led them right down the aisle, towards a lone stool sat in the middle of the hall. She stopped them a few metres away from the stool and stepped forwards, turning to face the school. She pulled out a dusty hat from her cloak, that she straightened and placed on the stool, and then she removed a long piece of parchment. She stepped back, watching the hat, as everyone else in the room appeared to be doing. The twins glanced at each other, confused, until they noticed the hat move. A slit appeared in the front of the hat, shaped like a mouth, and the slit opened wide and began to sing:

"_Oh you may not think I'm pretty,  
>But don't judge on what you see,<br>I'll eat myself if you can find  
>A smarter hat than me.<em>

You can keep your bowlers black,  
>Your top hats sleek and tall,<br>For I'm the Hogwarts Sorting Hat  
>And I can cap them all.<p>

There's nothing hidden in your head  
>The Sorting Hat can't see,<br>So try me on and I will tell you  
>Where you ought to be.<p>

You might belong in Gryffindor,  
>Where dwell the brave at heart,<br>Their daring, nerve, and chivalry  
>Set Gryffindors apart;<p>

You might belong in Hufflepuff,  
>Where they are just and loyal,<br>Those patient Hufflepuffs are true  
>And unafraid of toil;<p>

Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw,  
>if you've a ready mind,<br>Where those of wit and learning,  
>Will always find their kind;<p>

Or perhaps in Slytherin  
>You'll make your real friends,<p>

_Those cunning folks use any means  
>To achieve their ends.<em>

So put me on! Don't be afraid!  
>And don't get in a flap!<br>You're in safe hands (though I have none)  
>For I'm a Thinking Cap!"<p>

The room burst into applause, and when the clapping died down, Professor McGonagall stepped forward and unrolled the parchment.

"Adams, Lionel," she said clearly, and a short boy with curly blond hair stumbled forwards, sat on the stool, and Professor McGonagall placed the hat on his head. He sat nervously for a few moments, before the hat shouted out "HUFFLEPUFF!" The boy took the hat off and hurried over to the table second from the right.

This procedure repeated several times, placing Angelina Johnson and Lee both into Gryffindor, a good looking boy called Cedric Diggory into Hufflepuff, and Roger Davies, a boy with short, dark hair, into Ravenclaw.

Eventually, Professor McGonagall called out "Weasley, Fred." Fred gave George a terrified look and headed towards the stool. He sat down shakily and felt the hat fall over his eyes.

_Hmm, another Weasley I see._

'What? There's only two of us right?'

_Not quite, indeed, no... very interesting indeed. Brave, yes. Foolish, maybe. Reckless, definitely. Yes, you're fairly easy to place. _"GRYFFINDOR!"

Fred got off the stool and headed towards to table to the far right, where he could see Lee and Angelina clapping him enthusiastically. He looked over at George, who avoided his eye. George was the last one to be placed. Fred sat next to Lee and crossed his fingers under the table. _Come on, George. _

"Weasley, George."

George felt sick. He only knew two people in this whole school, and they were both in Gryffindor. What if he wasn't?

He sat down and as the hat fell over his eyes, saw only darkness.

_And the second of the pair arrives. A lot more scared than the other. Interesting._

'I'm not scared. I just want to be with Fred.'

_Yes, you would say that. But I can see in your head, George Weasley, and I can see fear. Where does the fear come from? It's a lot deeper than simply nerves. Everyone gets nervous at the Sorting._

'I am just nervous, same as everyone else.'

_No, you're not. You're scared of someone outside of this place, someone from your past. Ah. I see it. And yet, he's dead, isn't he? Irrational fear, that's what this is. Not the trait of a Gryffindor._

'I am a Gryffindor. No, I can be a Gryffindor. I haven't had the upbringing Fred had, but we're still the same person!'

_Not quite. Even below your fears, I can see intelligence that he doesn't have. Not a huge difference, I'll admit, but you're also more reserved. You really are a tough one._

'Please. I'm begging you, put me in Gryffindor.'

_But you barely even know your twin yet. Why are you so desperate to be with him? You're a different person._

'I need the chance to get to know him. It was neither of our faults we're alone. It isn't fair to be split up again, after we only just met.'

_You say alone. But he wasn't alone, was he? He still has a family. How do you know he feels the same way?_

'I... I don't know.'

_Exactly. I just can't decide with you. You're an odd one. But then, I suppose I have to go with what you truly are, not what you've been made to become by other people. Okay, I've decided._

'Please...'

"GRYFFINDOR!"

Relief. That was all George felt. He opened his eyes and felt the hat being removed from his head. He looked down towards the Gryffindor table and saw Fred and Lee standing up, whooping him. He headed towards them and sat ahead of Fred, next to Angelina.

As the clapping died down, Fred leaned over and whispered to him, "That took a long time, I was beginning to worry there."

George smiled weakly. "Yeah, I was worried too."

"I didn't like the hat, I thought it was a bit creepy..."

"Yeah, agreed." And yet, Fred had no idea how scared George had been.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: So, what did you think? I'm hoping you're getting more insight as to how the twins feel, especially George, since I think he is a lot more complicated than Fred, in this story anyway. I really hope you enjoyed this chapter, and if you think its finished in a strange place, that's because I wrote this and the next chapter together, but decided to split them because it was almost 4000 words, which I know is normal for most people but is a very long chapter for me. And I like my chapters short, sorry if you readers don't! Please read and review anyway :) Special thanks to AurorSilver3031, Gato0629, Spiralling-Down, Ryah Ignis, TwinFan, digigirl02, GeorgieForever and PotterheadWhovian. Thanks for reading!**


	10. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

There was a loud ringing of a bell, and Professor Dumbledore stood up.

"Welcome, to another year at Hogwarts!" he said, his bright blue eyes twinkling. "I must remind you all of a few rules before we feast. The Forbidden Forest is still as the name explains- _forbidden. _No students must be wandering the castle after bed times, and if anyone is caught, Argus Filch has warned that severe punishments will be given." He paused briefly. "And now, after that grim thought, let us eat! I am quite sure I heard the sound of a herd of elephants rumbling from my stomach. Tuck in!"

And suddenly, the empty silver platters on the tables were full of all types of foods you can imagine. Beef, pork, chicken, fish, carrots, peas, broccoli, cabbage, mushrooms, pies, mashed, roasted and boiled potatoes, chips, jackets, all different types of beans, and for some strange reason, tripe.

Fred and George's mouths were watering. Their similarities in the amount of food they ate was automatically evident as both of them piled their plates with some of everything, even the tripe. The only thing Fred didn't put on his plate was the liver and onions.

In half an hours time, Fred and George had both cleared their plates, and were going for second helpings when Lee stopped them.

"Guys, there's still pudding to come, got to leave room for that, yeah?"

With an identical expression of sulking, they put their knives and forks down and leant back in their seats. The food soon disappeared though, and was replaced with every type of cake, pie, pudding and fruit they could think of.

"That was, the best meal I've ever eaten," sighed George, after finishing his third helping of treacle sponge. "Literally."

"I think I'm going to have to agree with you there, Georgie," Fred remarked, patting his stomach.

"Georgie?" He raised his eyebrows. "I've never been called that before."

"Nope, but now you've met me. Got to have a nickname for you, haven't I?"

"It's not exactly a nickname..."

"No, but it will do for the moment." Fred winked at this twin and laughed heartily. "Ah, that food was seriously amazing though. I just want to eat _more._"

"I know, I was so starving I could have eaten a horse."

Angelina looked up from her plate. "Having only just met you two," she said, "I am positive in my deductions that you are actual _pigs._"

"Wow Ang, I have no idea where you got that idea from," said Fred seriously.

"I mean, look at us. Fighting fit," George continued. She shook her head and returned to her steak and kidney pie.

Lee put his spoon down and looked at the twins. "She's right though. I thought I was a pig, but you two are the _extreme._"

The three started to laugh, and couldn't stop until the food disappeared and the room turned silent, so they had to hold in their laughter. Fred looked like he was choking, and Angelina shot him a look of disapproval as Dumbledore stood up once again. "Well, now that you're all fed and watered, it's time for bed! First-years, your prefects will take you to your common room. Off you go, sleep tight!"

There was a loud creaking as everyone stood up from their tables and crowded toward the exits. The first-years were ordered to stay where they were by two tall sixth years, one a boy, short and stocky with bright red hair, and the other a girl with long black hair.

They followed the prefects once all the older years had cleared from the doors. They walked up the staircases, which the twins were more amused than anything at the fact that they liked to move . They laughed loudly when another Gryffindor first-year, Kenneth, fell into a 'fake' step, which earned them a warning look from the female prefect.

Finally, they reached a portrait of a very fat lady in a pink dress, where they stopped.

"Password?" she said, and the girl said "Ibblebobbles."

"Quite right, too," the Fat Lady said, and the portrait swung back to reveal a human sized hole in the wall. The prefects climbed through and beckoned to the first-years to follow them.

They found themselves in a large, cosy room, with red and gold decorations, a few portraits of regal looking witches and wizards, and squashy chairs dotted around.

"This," said the male prefect, "is the Gryffindor common room. Up the stairs are the dormitories- boys, it's up the stairs and to the left, girls, to the right." He smiled at them kindly. "I'm Charlie, and this is Harriet. If you have any problems, just ask. We're always ready to help. Now, off you go, if McGonagall finds anyone up after hours she'll have your head."

The students all headed towards the stairs, Fred and George amongst them, when Charlie called them back. "Fred, George, come here a moment."

The twins gave each other confused looks and held back, until the common room was empty except for them and Charlie.

Charlie cleared his throat, and held out his hand. "I know this is going to be incredibly strange for you, especially when so much has happened for you both recently, but I'm Charlie. Charlie Weasley, your brother."

Fred and George shook his hand, utterly gob-smacked.

"So not only have they kept us apart, they've kept us from an older brother too?" said George furiously.

"It's not just me. There's Bill, who graduated this year, Percy, who is younger than me but older than you- you'll meet him tomorrow- and then there's Ron, who's younger than you, and Ginny, the youngest."

The twins were turning pink with anger. "So I presume," Fred shouted, "that Ron and Ginny don't know anything about any of us?"

"What the hell is this all about?" George continued.

Charlie closed his eyes, nodding. "Guys, I understand. It's a shock. It _is _totally unfair. Trust me, I know. I hated my foster family and now I live here permanently with Hagrid over the holidays. But know this, now I'm here for you, and Bill is too. He's graduated, yes, but he said he's going to write to you soon. Percy will like to meet you too, and then in two years, we'll meet Ron, and then the year after that, Ginny. And then we'll all be together again."

"Why can't we talk to Ron and Ginny _now_ though?" Fred asked.

"We've been ordered not to. Dumbledore says its entirely for their safety, or something like that."

"Why would they be in danger? Were _we _in danger?"

"Apparently so. You'd never tell, but Dumbledore has had protective enchantments on our homes and around us for our whole lives. Your foster homes will still have them, to protect your families."

"But _why?_" George inquired.

"Because of You-Know-Who. A wizard gone bad, who's basically trying to destroy all Muggle-borns and turn all magic into the dark arts. He was after our parents, which is why we were all taken off them."

But the twins still looked agitated. "Why did they keep having children though, if they knew we'd be taken off them? It's not fair on us!"

Charlie shrugged. "I wouldn't know. Maybe they're just hoping You-Know-Who will be destroyed and they'd get us back."

"Who's 'You-Know-Who?'"

Charlie hesitated. "Well, don't make me say it again. His name is Lord Voldemort," he whispered.

"Wow, what a bad-ass," said Fred, rolling his eyes. "A _Lord, _eh?"

"Get him," George finished.

Charlie laughed. "Glad you two have got a sense of humour. Percy is so _boring _it's untrue, and now Bill's left I need someone to have a laugh with. Anyway, get off to bed before McGonagall murders me for being a bad Prefect..."

Fred and George nodded and headed towards the stairs. "See you tomorrow, Charlie," Fred called back.

"Thanks for explaining everything to us," George added, and they disappeared up the stairs and headed to bed.

When Fred and George entered their dormitory, Lee and Kenneth were both in their beds, fast asleep. They rolled their eyes at each other and grabbed their pyjamas, readily folded on the end of their bed's, which were next to each other.

"I can't believe today," George whispered, taking off his shoes and his robes. "This morning I was travelling on a train to London, with no idea that I'd have a twin brother who I was soon to meet. And now, we find that we have four other brothers, and a sister as well!"

"I know, it's crazy," Fred agreed quietly. He took off his shirt and was just buttoning up his pyjama top when he looked over at this twin and noticed several long, deep scars from the top of his chest to his waist. He gasped, and George looked over at him, turning red when he realised what Fred had noticed.

"What _happened _to you?" Fred hissed. "Seriously, how did you get those?"

"Car crash, when I was younger," George whispered, turning back towards his bed and reaching for his pyjama shirt but revealing many of the same gashes on his back in the process. Fred felt sick. That was _not _from a car crash, he was willing to bet his life on it.

He left the subject, anyway. George was clearly embarrassed as he was silent from that moment until they were lying in their beds, and Fred said "Night, Georgie."

"Night, Freddie."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Sorry it's been so long! Various reasons, mainly that I've suffered with writers block, with other contributing factors such as I ended up reading the Mortal Instruments again... if anyone hasn't read them, they're amazing! Anyway, I'm back to my favourite twins now!  
>Hope you liked this chapter! The conversation with Charlie felt awkward, but I think that's how it would be, right? Anyway, any constructive criticism is welcome. Thanks for reading! :D I'd LOVE 20 reviews- but that's too much to ask, right? After I've been so horrible and everything? :P<br>Love you all! Especially RyahIgnis, KatiePenn, Spiralling-Down, TwinFan, Pelahnar, digigirl02, gato0629, GeorgieForever and SkyeElf! You're all amazing :)**


	11. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

Early next morning, about five o'clock, George opened his eyes to the soft orange glow of the rising sun shining through the window. He closed his eyes again, not wanting to get up, until, suddenly, he remembered where he was. He leapt up from bed and padded over to the window.

The morning was bright but hazy; he could see a flock of birds flying above the forest, and close to the forest edge he saw Hagrid emerging from a tiny hut with a huge dog following him. He headed into the forest, carrying a large sack of something obviously heavy, as he could see even Hagrid was struggling under the weight.

George settled himself on the window ledge, simply staring at the beauty of his new home, when he heard movement behind him. Fred had stirred, and was yawning widely.

"I thought I heard something," he whispered. "And then I remembered, could this possibly be my recently discovered twin?" He grinned at George, and continued. "Shall we go have a look around the castle?"

"Won't we get caught?" George said, but he was smiling mischievously.

"Not if we're careful." Fred winked at his twin. "Come on, what's wrong with exploring at five in the morning? It's called an 'adventure.'"

"Okay, let's go. Let's just pull some jeans and a top on first though, I don't think I'd like being discovered in our pyjamas. It would be harder to stay dignified."

"Right, be quick and quiet though, we don't want to wake Lee and Kenneth."

And so, the twins, silently as a mouse, pulled on some clothes and crept out of the dormitory and through the portrait.

"What are you two doing at this time?" scolded the Fat Lady, yawning widely. "I deserve sleep, you know!"

"Yeah, okay," said George, rolling his eyes. "See you later."

"Bye!" Fred called back merrily as they reached the end of the corridor and she disappeared from view.

"Where shall we go, then?" George asked as they walked aimlessly around the corridors.

"Dunno. Shall we go outside?"

"Yeah, it looks warm, and I bet we're less likely to be caught out there."

"Okay, come on then." Fred looked on top of the world as they heaved open the huge front doors and walked out onto the wide expanse of grass, looking down upon the lake and the mountains beyond.

They walked down towards the lake, breathing in the clean, cool air.

"This. Is. Perfect," George sighed, as they reached the lake and stopped, staring over at the sun rising behind the mountains.

"It really is. _Glorious._ It's so warm as well!"

The pair fell silent, looking at each other. They grinned simultaneously.

"Are you thinking what I'm thinking?"

"I don't know, George, am I?"

"I think you are, Fred, I think you are." And with that, George grabbed Fred by the arm and threw him into the lake, jumping in after him."

The two of them gasped at the cold, but as they got used to it they began to laugh and splash each other. Fred pulled off his t-shirt, throwing it on the bank, but said nothing when George didn't follow suit.

The twins stayed down by the lake for at least three hours, alternating between lying on the bank talking, with the sun drying their skin and their clothes, and jumping back into the lake. George, being the better swimmer of the two- he would often go to the lake near the Crofts' house to swim when the weather was hot- actually ventured out into the middle of the lake, but swam swiftly back towards the edge when he noticed a long tentacle poking out of the water nearby.

It was half past eight when Fred and George ran out of the lake, and Fred, checking his watch which he had left by his t-shirt, cried out:

"It's half past eight! Breakfast has already started! And we need to get changed!"

"Damn it!" George groaned. Fred pulled his t-shirt on and the twins ran back towards the castle. They sprinted through the entrance hall, hoping against hope they wouldn't meet a teacher.

Their wishes were fruitless. A professor appeared, tall and thin with lank, greasy black hair to his shoulders and a hooked nose. He glared down at the twins.

"And what exactly are you doing?" he said in a quiet but deadly voice. "Not only are you soaked to the skin, but you are outside of the castle before hours _and _out of uniform. Not a great start to the year, is it?"

"No, sir," the twins said.

"Detention for you both, and twenty points from Gryffindor. Your house won't be very happy with you, will they? Weasley, isn't it?"

"Yes," said George.

"Yes what?"

"Yes, _sir,_" he finished.

"I'll send the details of your detention to Professor McGonagall. I think I have the joy of teaching you today. I'll look forward to it." His voice was laced with sarcasm.

The blacked haired professor turned tail and walked away, leaving the twins stood there, dripping wet. Fred stuck his tongue out at the retreating man and the two of them headed back to the dormitory.

They fell on their beds, laughing until tears fell from their eyes.

"Did you see his face?" Fred cried, barely able to breath from laughing.

"I know, actually priceless!" George agreed, thumping his fists on the pillow.

"Come on though, we'd better have some food," Fred said shortly after they had composed themselves. "We won't make it through the day otherwise."

Fred and George changed quickly into fresh clothes, George carefully hiding his scars and Fred pretending not to notice. As George pulled out his robes and stepped into them, Fred asked him:

"George, do you want some of my robes? Yours are a bit short..."

"No, I'm fine, thanks," he replied, his ears going pink.

"Oh, go on," Fred continued kindly. "It's no trouble, I could easily have been in your position and you in mine-"

"Fred, no! I'm not a charity."

Fred glared at him, and stubbornly threw his own robes on the floor. "Right then." And he took the second pair of George's robes- also several inches too short and greying- and put them on.

"Oi! Give them back!"

"No. Now we're the same."

George looked baffled. "What's the point though? Fair enough that I look stupid, but why do you need to?"

"So we're the same; come on, we can't switch places and confuse people if we look different, can we?" He paused. "Anyway, I want to look like you. In this together, right?"

George grinned. "That's right. The Weasley twins against the world. Now come on, lets go eat, quickly!"

The twins arrived at the Great Hall at ten to nine, and rushed to sit next to Lee, who just looked at them, shaking his head.

"Where the hell did you go? I got up at seven and you were nowhere to be seen!"

"We just went for a walk-"

"-and a swim."

"Lovely morning, though," Fred finished with a grin.

Charlie appeared out of nowhere and sat opposite the twins.

"Where have you been? Percy was looking for you, but you were late, and Lee didn't know where you'd gone."

"We went outside and lost track of time."

"And we got caught by a hideous, greasy haired professor. Detention."

"And we lost twenty points."

"Sorry."

"Snape? And isn't it a bit early to be getting into trouble? Seriously, why are the Weasleys so extreme? Percy is a right snob and won't set a foot wrong, and you two have put us into the minus figures on the first day? Honestly..."

"Sorry, Charlie."

"We won't do it again."

"Somehow, I don't believe that. Anyway, Percy has gone to the library before his first lesson- I know, don't even ask- he'll meet you guys at lunch. So _don't _go getting another detention, okay?"

"Okay Charlie," they chorused in unison. Their brother left, shaking his head but not managing to disguise a smile.

It hadn't yet been five minutes since Charlie had left the Great Hall when Professor McGonagall appeared behind the twins. They looked up from their plates (piled with bacon, eggs, sausages, beans, mushrooms, tomatoes, black pudding and hash browns), only to see her disapproving glare on them.

"Here are your timetables, Weasleys," she said, with a dangerous undertone to her voice.

"Thanks, Professor," Fred replied, avoiding her eye.

She began to walk away, and the twins breathed a sigh of relief. Unfortunately for them, though, she turned around and said, as an afterthought:

"And don't think I don't know about your... outing this morning. I will not act on it this time, but I will say this, I won't tolerate you losing points like that for our house in future. You have been warned."

And with that, she swept out of the Great Hall, leaving the twins staring at their plates. Once she was well out of sight, their eyes met.

"Well, that was awkward," George said seriously.

"We'd better be careful from now on, Georgie." Fred agreed, nodding.

They raised their eyebrows at each other, and burst into laughter.

Lee leaned over and punched Fred on the arm. "Oi!" Fred replied, rubbing his shoulder.

"Just, shut up laughing so I can talk!" Lee replied, but with a grin all the same. "I've been trying to get a word in but you've been laughing so hard you haven't heard me! Now listen, we've got Snape first thing for Potions..."

"Wait,-"

"-Snape, that's the one with the greasy black hair-"

"-and the long nose-"

"-and the terrible personality-"

"-and, most importantly, has a grudge already against you two," Lee finished.

"Oh dear," the twins said in unison.

"'Oh dear' indeed." He moved to stand behind the twins and patted them on the back. "I'm going back to the dormitory anyway, I'll see you in Potions."

"See you later," they called after him. They looked down at their timetables and shook their heads.

"_Double _Potions," Fred groaned. "Our first lesson, and we know it's going to be a disaster."

"No question about it," George agreed.

"Although," Fred said, grinning, "we _are_ already in trouble..."

George raised his eyebrow. "The whole points thing though... McGonagall won't be very impressed."

"So? And anyway, if we're careful, he might not know it's us."

"Really? He clearly will know it's us after this morning."

"But if he can't prove it? Surely even he won't take points without proof?"

"I dunno Fred, he seems the sort of person that doesn't care much about fairness..."

"Oh, come on Georgie!" Fred whined. "I just know it will be the most horrific two hours of our lives if we don't make it fun!"

"I don't think it would be the worst day of my life, Fred," George said quietly.

There was silence as George looked away and pushed around the few scraps left on his plate. Fred reached out and touched George softly on the arm.

"I'm sorry," he said simply. George looked round at his twin and smiled. "Okay. Let's do it."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Hi again guys! Sorry its been so long (again) but here I am! This chapter has been almost done for ages but my problem is that I'm struggling where to go from here, so I've left it for a while as I came up with some new ideas for the next chapters. The next chapter is actually the worst one so it may take a while, or it may not, but I couldn't just leave it out as I think it's an important chapter to include :P Thank you everyone for your patience :) Special thanks to Ryah Ignis, Spiralling-Down, KCRedPanda98, GeorgieForever, KatiePennn and Mickey S. J. Reilly :) You guys are awesome!**


	12. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

The dungeons were dark, damp and cold, as Fred and George had wholly expected it to be. The class stood shivering in the large empty space, lit only with widely spaced torches that created an eerie, flickering glow. The students looked nervous, Fred thought, and he grinned as George nudged him on the shoulder and winked. This was going to be interesting.

Snape suddenly appeared, as if from thin air, and glared at the class. "Follow me," he said, his voice a mere whisper, yet everyone heard him perfectly. He was intimidating, there was no doubt about that.

The class- which consisted of Fred, George, Lee, Angelina, Kenneth, and Alicia Spinnet from Gryffindor, and four girls and three boys from Slytherin, none of whose names were known to the twins- followed Snape through a large, rotting wooden door into another chamber with shelves covering every wall, filled with jars and bottles of every shape, size and colour imaginable.

"What a miserable looking lot," George whispered to Fred, nodding towards the Slytherin's, and he chuckled.

"Agreed. Perfect for our plan-"

"Weasley."

Fred and George looked up at Snape, smiling pleasantly.

"Yes, Sir?" they said in perfect unison. Lee snorted.

"I don't recall saying you could talk. You are in my lesson, and you will do as you are asked."

They said nothing, staring innocently at him.

"Well? What should you say to me?"

"Nothing, Sir."

"Are you sure about that?" His voice sounded dangerous, and his black eyes bore into the twins, who smiled widely.

"Well, you told us we couldn't talk-"

"-so we shall do as you ask-"

"-unless you want us to speak after all..."

Snape glared at the twins. "Sit down, class," he snapped. He summoned some parchment and proceeded to take the register, before lifting his gaze back to the class.

"Potions." His voice was little more than a whisper. "The most beautiful and precise of the magical arts. It's unlikely a single one of you have any of the patience and skill required to master the subject. I expect the majority of you will barely scrape an Acceptable in your OWL. Nevertheless, let's get started. Today, we will be making a simple Wiggenweld Potion. It is a healing potion, often used to waken the inflicted from magically induced sleep."

The class had been silent throughout this speech, but George could almost feel the cogs in Fred's head whirring. His twin had a small smile on his face and George knew he was itching to cause mayhem.

"Well?" Snape said. "Why aren't you getting started? We haven't got all day. Work in pairs and we will test the potions once you've made them, so make sure you follow the instructions carefully."

There was a scraping of chairs as the class moved towards the ingredients cupboard and picked out the ingredients Snape was now writing on the blackboard.

Fred winked at George, and grabbed a handful of the nearest random ingredients.

Twenty minutes passed in silence, if not for the faint bubbling of potions and crackling of the fires. It was when Snape finally stood from his desk and moved to look at Alicia Spinnet's potion that Fred and George began their plan.

George made a sudden movement with his arm and knocked the nearest Slytherin's vial of Salamander blood onto the floor. There was a smash and Snape appeared at the scene in a flash.

"You idiot!" Snape snarled at George, who stood his ground bravely.

"It wasn't my fault!" he defended. "This prat had his vial right on the edge of his desk..."

While all this was going on, and the rest of the class was staring at Snape and George arguing, Fred snuck away from their cauldron and added various roots and flowers he had stolen from the cupboard into everyone's potions, including his own. Much to his delight, there was no violent reactions in the cauldrons, only subtle changes of colour and soft hisses.

"That's it, Weasley," Snape spat. "Ten points from Gryffindor for your cheek." He swivelled around and glared at the rest of the class. "Get on with your brewing! I won't be surprised if you've all lost timing now and your potions are terrible!"

Fred winked at George. How right Snape was.

It was another half an hour later when Snape finally told the class to stop their work and take a sample of their potion. Snape's already vile expression seemed to somehow get even more angry when he saw the variety of colours and textures, not one of which was correct.

"_What _have you all been doing for the past hour?" Snape fumed. "Not _one _of you has got the correct bright green colour and soup-like consistency." His black eyes bore into the twins. "Let's hope once you've all tested your potions you'll be more careful next time. One person in every pair can sample it. Off you go."

Fred had previously decided that since George had been the diversion, he would take the potion, so with a quick grin at his twin, downed the shimmering silver potion. Lee, acting gallant as usual, offered to take the blow from Angelina Johnson, and Alicia Spinnet insisted she drink it instead of her partner Kenneth. Two of the Slytherin boys and one girl also drank their was a short silence, until suddenly the class was an uproar. Fred's lips had suddenly swelled to five times their normal size so he couldn't even talk, and George was doubled over with laughter. Lee's dreadlocks had turned a fetching yellow colour, and Alicia had grown a moustache that many men would be jealous of. One of the Slytherin boys, a sulky looking person with brown hair, had broken out in large, red boils that were bursting and releasing a fowl green goo that smelt like fish. The other boy looked relieved to have seemingly escaped any effects, but when he turned to his partner to say so, his voice had risen in pitch to that of a five year old girl. The final Slytherin, a blonde girl, had her hand over her nose, which was bleeding heavily.

"Silence!" Snape snapped. The moaning and laughing stopped. "Well, as you can see, this is what happens when you mess around in class." He waved his wand at every student in turn, and they returned to normal. "That's the end of the lesson. For homework I want a foot long essay on the history and uses of the Wiggenweld potion. Class dismissed."

Fred and George, grinning from ear to ear at their success, rushed towards the exit.

"Weasleys!" Their hearts sank and turned around to face the greasy-haired git.

"I know that you sabotaged today's lesson. Detention, both of you, and consider yourselves lucky I haven't taken more point from your house. I hope you're proud of yourselves. I expect to see you at eight o'clock tonight right here for your punishment. Now get out of my sight."

* * *

><p>"I can't <em>believe <em>him!" Fred was fuming, his ears bright red. "That was completely out of order!"

George, who was not quite so worked up as Fred, (probably because he was used to unfair treatment), put his hand on his brother's arm.

"Whoa, Fred, it's not that bad, really. Tell me it wasn't worth it. That kid's face, you know, the one with the brown hair and a soar expression, was definitely improved by those boils." He grinned at the memory.

"But there's no way Snape was sure it was us!" he whined. "Even it was someone else, he would have picked on us anyway!"

"True, but now at least we have a good reason to hate him."

"We don't need a reason. I hated him from the moment I laid eyes on the slimy bas-"

"Fred, George!" The twins turned towards the voice coming from behind them, and saw a tall, thin boy with glasses and red hair. He was perfectly spotless- the model student- and they knew immediately that this was Percy.

Their brother reached them and held out his hand. He cleared his throat.

"I'm Percy," he said. "I'm sure Charlie told you who I am; I'm very pleased to meet you."

Fred wrinkled his nose- this was exactly the sort of person that irritated him immensely. George on the other hand was perfectly polite and shook Percy's outstretched hand. "I'm George, this is Fred."

There was a short silence while Percy held out his hand to Fred, who grudgingly shook it too. George rolled his eyes- he'd known his twin for just over a day and he could already read him like a book. Percy probably could as well, for he drew his hand back and looked awkward.

"Well, I was on the way to the library anyway, so I'll leave you to go and get your lunch... I'll, er... I'm sure I'll talk to you later..." Percy strode back the way he had come- he obviously hadn't been on the way to the library- and Fred snorted when he had disappeared out of sight.

"What a drip!" Fred snickered. "Come on, let's go get lunch-"

"Fred, that wasn't fair, he was only trying to introduce himself-"

"Well it's not my fault he's so boring. I'm sure Charlie agrees, he didn't seem keen on him when he mentioned him last night, did he?"

"That's not the point-"

"Ah, who cares," Fred interrupted impatiently. "I'm starving, let's forget him and get some food before I pass out."

The twins arrived late for lunch, having got lost once again. In fact, the Great Hall was almost entirely devoid of first years; Peeves' favourite time of the year was the first week of term when he could attack the 'ickle firsties'.

As George piled his plate with chips, Fred nudged him and pointed above their heads. A single brown owl was flying straight towards them, and promptly dropped a letter into the salad bowl. Fred picked it up curiously, and read 'Fred and George Weasley' in red ink on the envelope. With a quick glance at his twin, Fred shrugged and ripped open the seal.

_Dear Fred and George,_ (they read)

_My name is Bill Weasley; I presume Charlie has already told you about me, but on the off chance he hasn't, I'm your eldest brother. There's no point in explaining everything in writing when you've got Charlie there to tell you, but I just wanted to write to you and let you know how sorry I am about the situation. _

_I understand if you're angry- especially if you had an awful time with your Muggle families like Charlie did. I feel awful that you had to be separated, even worse because you're twins. _

_Now, there's something that I haven't told any of you yet, including Charlie and Percy. They should get their letters around the same time as you. I met our parents last week. Now that I've graduated, I'm allowed to put myself at risk, and that's exactly what I did._

_I'm not going to pretend it wasn't strange. I can't tell you much about them, Dumbledore's orders. But they are amazing people, and they couldn't be more sorry for what's happened. The moment you graduate, you can meet them too, and it may seem forever away, but it's worth it. _

_I have a feeling that You-Know-Who will come back, one day, and I'm going to fight him alongside our parents. You never know, maybe one day we can have a proper family. _

_I hope to hear from you soon,_

_Your brother, _

_Bill Weasley_

Fred and George finished the letter in silence, and their faces said it all. One day, they could meet them. Their parents were waiting for them.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: So, there we have it. I'm not going to make any excuses for the long wait between updates, writer's block is writer's block and there's nothing I can do about it! I really hope this was worth the wait, and thank you so much for your patience and constantly reminding me to get back on it and write. Special thanks to my lovely reviewers, _THE-INIMITABLE-IT, GeorgieForever, urgleblurgle, Spiralling-Down, RoseQuartz1, JimmyPaging, weasleychick32, dorkydorkdork, LunaWeasley394, CamiBelle, Constashas _and the unsigned guest. I love you all!**

Next chapter: Fred and George learn to fly and an accident ensues.


	13. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

The twin's first two weeks at Hogwarts came and went. They were already gaining a reputation for being troublemakers. The Gryffindors loved them and hated them at the same time- loved them, for the constant entertainment they provided in lessons; hated them, for the points they were losing on a daily basis.

The twins did admit that they liked some of their lessons. Transfiguration, while difficult, they seemed to have a particular talent for, and they had a respect for McGonagall that they couldn't explain, so they didn't mess around in her classes. Well, not as much.

Charms was the other class the twins liked much more than their others. Professor Flitwick was a smiling little man and didn't seem to mind when they made jokes, so they refrained from playing the jokes on him and directed them at their classmates instead. In fact, they were top of the class in Charms, and Flitwick often commented on the flare they were showing for his subject already.

Potions and History of Magic, however, were terrible. History of Magic was almost so boring that they could do hardly anything to make it enjoyable. Potions, meanwhile, was even worse. Snape had already given them two detentions, and it was when they were cleaning cauldrons for the fourth hour straight that they almost decided to give up the pranks during Potions. Almost.

It was on Thursday at breakfast that the twins saw a huddle around a notice in the Great Hall. Flying lessons for first year Gryffindors and Ravenclaws, which had started late this year due to Madam Hooch contracting Scrofungulus, were that afternoon at 2pm. Fred and George high-fived. This was what they had been looking forward to.

* * *

><p>It was a fine day. The sky was a forget-me-not blue and there was not a cloud in sight. The lake was as still and as clear as glass.<p>

Madam Hooch, a stern looking witch with eyes like a hawk and spiked grey hair, led the first years to a flat piece of land overlooking the lake with soft heather covering every inch of grass. Fred and George were fairly sure the soft heather was there on purpose to soften the inevitable falls of students on their first flying lesson.

"First years," Madam Hooch said, in order of a greeting. "My name is Madam Hooch, and I will be teaching you how to fly on broomsticks. Anyone messing around and putting their peers in danger will be expelled. You have been warned."

Fred and George raised their eyebrows but said nothing.

"Now, all of your stand to the left of your broomsticks, hold your right hand over it, and say 'UP'."

The class did as she asked, with the result of only Fred, George, Lee, Angelina, Alicia, and one of the Ravenclaw girl's brooms leaping into their hands.

"You have to say it with confidence!" Madam Hooch instructed, and she went over to Kenneth to try to help.

"Good one guys!" Lee said to the twins. "I've flown before, and I guess Angelina and Alicia have too, but you two haven't- I'm impressed."

"Well, Lee," Fred said with an air of superiority, "it is true that George and I haven't had the privilage upbringing that you had-"

"-but," George continued, "we have natural talent that one such as yourself can only dream of having."

Lee snorted. Madam Hooch gave him a piercing look.

"Now that you all have you brooms, I want you to mount it. Watch the way I grip it, and be careful not to slide off the end, we don't want any casualties today."

It was with impatience that Lee and the twins waited for Madam Hooch to finally give them permission to fly. And fly they did.

It was an immediate instinct. The twins soared above the grounds and when Madam Hooch called them back down, plummeted into a dive before pulling up inches from the ground. The rest of the Gryffindors, including Lee, clapped and whooped, clearly impressed by their obvious talent.

"Thank you, thank you-"

"-we're here all week-"

"-signed pictures and autographs are available-"

"-at a small cost-"

Madam Hooch was not impressed. "Fred and George Weasley, if you don't mind, I'm trying to teach a lesson here. Now-"

* * *

><p>It was at dinner that evening that Charlie told the twins about Quidditch.<p>

"What's Quidditch?" they had asked when he had mentioned Quidditch practice in passing conversation.

Percy took the opportunity to join in the conversation.

"Quidditch," he said, in his most teacher-like voice, "is a magical sport played on broomsticks. It's kind of like a cross between basketball and cricket..."

Charlie laughed. "No, Perce, it really isn't." He took a bite of his burger thoughtfully. "How to describe Quidditch?"

Lee Jordan then jumped in.

"Quidditch. Quidditch is amazing."

"Quidditch is a true team game," Percy added.

"Quidditch is dangerous and exciting, all at the same time."

"Quidditch is the best part of Hogwarts," finished Charlie.

"So-"

'-I guess you all really like Quidditch."

They nodded with fervour. Fred and George started to laugh, but when the other's didn't join, their expression serious, they stopped.

"Wow, you're serious about this aren't you?"

"Guys, you have never played it. The freedom you feel when you're up there, the wind blowing in your face. The glory, when you're team wins, when the crowd are cheering your name. Nothing can beat that feeling."

"Wow." There was an identical glint in the twins' eyes.

"Can we play?"

Charlie shook his head. "Sorry. First years can't try out for the team. It's the rules."

Percy patted Fred condescendingly on the shoulder. "Maybe next year you can go for it, I'm sure you've got a fighting chance."

It was in silence that they finished their dinner; when the twins stood up and took their leave, they didn't need to say anything to know what the other was thinking. No way were they waiting a year to play. They were playing tonight.

* * *

><p>At midnight the twins, after a quick glance at each other to check they were awake, pulled back their covers to reveal that they were in fact still fully dressed. They grabbed their trainers and crept silently out of their dormitory and down to the common room.<p>

The Fat Lady was not impressed.

"What are you two doing?" she grumbled. "I need my sleep too, you know!"

"Sorry!" they whispered, leaving her still muttering in their wake.

It was exciting, wandering around Hogwarts at night. It had an eerie silence to it that wouldn't have been so creepy if it wasn't for the slow, rhythmic breathing of the paintings and occasional footsteps from the shadows.

The twins had almost reached the entrance hall when they jumped in shock, only just stopping themselves from screaming. A softly glowing figure had appeared suddenly in the corridor ahead of them, and it was only when they saw that the figure was in fact Nearly-Headless Nick that they allowed themselves to breath again.

Nearly-Headless Nick floated over to them with a lofty expression.

"And what are you two doing out of bed?" he asked, raising his silver eyebrow.

"We're going to the Quidditch field-"

"-we don't think it's fair that first years don't get to play-"

"-so we're going anyway."

He looked both impressed and disapproving of the twin's bold honesty.

"Well, don't let me keep you. I won't tell anyone, don't worry. I miss the days when people cared about what I was doing in the middle of the night..."

He floated away, still murmuring about the trials of death.

"George-"

"Yes?"

"Don't let us come back as ghosts when we die." Fred wore a serious expression. "I think death would take all the fun out of life."

It took him a moment to register the logic of what he had just said, before they were snorting with laughter, desperately trying not to be too loud.

* * *

><p>Half an hour later, Fred and George had broken into the broom cupboard and had stolen a box of plain golf balls, as well as the two broomsticks that looked the least tattered. It was with excitement that they trudged down to the field with their wands lighting the way.<p>

"You know Georgie, I'm kinda glad first years can't play Quidditch."

"Get lost, why?"

"Because we wouldn't be sneaking around at midnight with the full moon above our heads and the whole of the pitch to ourselves, that's why."

George laughed, and punched Fred playfully on the arm. "Come on, we're here."

The pitch was empty, looking twice as big as it did in the daytime as a result. They were lucky though- the full moon lit it enough that they could see the opposite side of the pitch- perfect visibility for playing 'Quidditch' (although as the only available materials at their disposal were golf balls, it was more catch-on-broomsticks).

They jumped on their brooms, grinned at each other, and took off into the cool, clear air. The freedom they had felt earlier that day returned with abundance. They decided to have a race from one side of the field to the other before using the golf balls. George won, but only, Fred insisted, because his broom kept veering to the left against his will.

Next, they threw golf balls to each other, varying direction and strength with each throw. Neither missed a throw.

That is, neither missed a throw until Fred decided to do a loop the loop on the way to catch it. The broom, not used to being flown in such a flamboyant manner, began to vibrate half way upside down, and it only took a second for Fred to lose his grip and fall, fall, fall.

The last thing he saw was George's look of horror before everything went black.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Am I cruel stopping here? Sorry people! Anyway, sorry this chapter is so short, doesn't it annoy you when you write 2000+ words in an hour and then only write 1500 over three days? This is my life, readers. Please review! Huge thanks to _Sleepwalkingluna14, OwlSky15678, RoseQuartz1, Sofia, Contashas, LunaWeasley394_, and _Spiralling-Down_ for your lovely reviews! **


	14. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

There was a faint buzzing. It sounded like a fly, the type that would be whizzing around the room for hours and you simply couldn't get rid of it.

There was a bright light shining through his eyelids, and he groaned. It was at that precise moment that he realised the buzzing was actually the pain in his head.

"Owww..."

George jerked awake, and saw, with a flood of relief, his twin shifting in bed. Fred's eyes flickered open, before closing again as he moaned in pain.

"It's too bright..." he whined, and George laughed as he relaxed. Fred was fine, he could see that now.

It was three o'clock in the afternoon, and Fred had been unconscious for almost fourteen hours. The moment he had hit the ground, George had panicked and had somehow managed to get him up to the school with strength he didn't even know he had. He had hammered on the enormous front door (which obviously wouldn't open to let them back in once they had left the school), not caring who he woke. It was only minutes late that none other than Snape had opened the door furiously, his expression more livid than George had ever seen it. George didn't care. All he cared about at that moment was Fred.

Snape had conjured a stretcher and levitated Fred onto it, before beckoning to George to follow him. He stilled looked furious, but he said nothing as they swept through the corridors to the hospital wing. Madam Pomfrey was already waiting for them, and George didn't even bother asking how she had known.

Snape had then left, not before saying:

"We will discuss this when your brother is well. Do not think this will go without punishment because he is injured."

George rolled his eyes at the thought of this. Snape could do whatever he wanted. He didn't care, as long as Fred was okay.

"What happened?"

Fred was sitting up now, a purple bruise beginning to blossom on his left eye.

George sighed. "You fell."

"Wow, thanks George, I hadn't worked that out," he said, rolling his eyes. "Tell me what happened _after _I did a loop the loop and almost died."

"Well, I somehow got you up to the school-"

"Well, I'm not exactly fat-"

"-shut up, Fred, I'm trying to tell you the story! Anyway, luck was not on our side today- and I'm not just talking about the fact you almost died. Snape answered the door."

Fred groaned. "Typical. He wasn't impressed, then?"

"Strangely, no. He looked like his eyes were going to pop out. So after he answered the door, and I was sure he wasn't about to curse us to oblivion, he conjured you onto a stretcher and we ran up here. Madam Pomfrey met us as the door to the hospital wing and took you away. Snape said something about our punishment, and then left. And then, I ran in here and Madam Pomfrey was patching you up. She said you'd be fine, but I was worried. Of course I was worried."

"I'm sorry, George. I was stupid. I'm sorry for making you worry about me."

"No, don't be sorry." George smiled. "As long as you're okay, that's all that matters."

There was a short silence. Then Fred said, "So what are my injuries. Anything lasting?"

George bit his lip. "Well, you bumped your head, as I'm sure you'll work out when you see that huge bruise on your face. And you broke your ankle, but Madam Pomfrey mended that in an instant, she said you'll only feel it when you first walk on it. And... and your back, it's scarred. You landed on the broom, smashed it to pieces. It wasn't exactly a good broom. Some of them were an inch deep, Madam Pomfrey said she did what she could, but she could only fully heal a few of them-"

Fred noticed that George looked upset, and took his hand. "George, it's okay. I'm fine, really."

"But you're not!" he replied in agitation. "Scars never go away! People look at you like you're a freak- laugh and whisper, wondering what awful thing must have happened to you!"

Fred fell silent, and waited for George's breathing to slow as he calmed down.

"There's always a good thing, from anything that happens. Sam always used to say that, no matter how hard things got for him."

"What could possibly be good about this?"

Fred smiled. "Now, nothing can distinguish us. Now, we are the same. And if people laugh, who cares? We'll laugh back at them, twice as much. As long as there's the two of us, nobody can hurt us."

George squeezed Fred's hand, which was still in his. "I'd never have thought a month ago that that could be true. But now, I've got you, and I think, anything's possible."

"Anything. The world is just waiting for us, and boy, are we gonna give them something to talk about."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Sorry for not updating sooner, and sorry this is so short! I'm afraid I'm going to have to hold off updating for a while- I've started revision and these exams are just too important to ignore like I have through the entirety of my school life, my uni place depends on it... But I will get back to it, I promise! Thanks so much for the lovely reviews, and special thanks to **_**LoonyLoopyLuna, RoseQuartz1, Pelahnar, Contashas, Spiralling-Down, LunaWeasley394, OwlSky15678, GeorgieForever, Neil, ctc, AQuestioningMind, potterhead0224, **_**and**_** weasleychick32. **_**You're all fab!**


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